**MAJOR DISCLAIMER: The following rants, tangents, and opinions are just the thoughts of a regular old mommy that has no idea what she’s doing most of the time. Some of the following thoughts might sound negative towards breastfeeding, and I want to say that I’m all about breastfeeding and will attempt to do it again if I’m blessed with another kiddo. I’m just sayin’ – sometimes it sucks (HA) and there are reasons not to. Look at it this way, boob-lovers: I’m actually celebrating that fact that you encourage this or achieve this even though it can be ridiculously hard! I will now liberally use hyperbole while dodging the nipple cream and pamphlets flying in my direction.**

**Minor disclaimer: This is probably the longest post I have written yet, and it’s only the tip of the iceberg. What a hilariously simple and complicated topic.

My Facebook feed has been lighting up recently with the amazing photos of newborn babies. While this hasn’t given me the itch of baby fever (sorry, Mom…), it has made me jump back into memories and remember those first few weeks. The joys and the struggles. The sleepless nights and the hours staring at my wonderful new person.

A long time ago, I was encouraged to write my thoughts on that time, especially my experience with breastfeeding. I hesitated, because – what should only be the business of the parents – is actually quite a sensitive topic. Everyone has an opinion and everyone tends to get a bit defensive about their opinion. Never in my life had I felt more judged than when I lived through this topic. I spent the first 4 months as a breastfeeding mommy, and the next 8 months as a formula mommy. I felt judged either way. Most of it was probably in my head, but I’m sure it’s something that many people struggle with. So should I write about it? What the heck. Someone out there might be interested. And if not, it will be a good reminder for me if I get the chance to try it all again.

Here is my opinion on feeding your child: You should totally feed your child.

Seriously. That is what I learned from being a new mom. I forgot that one day Ben would be big and no one will care how he was fed as a baby. I’ve spent 9 years as a classroom teacher, and I have never blamed anything on newborn nutrition. Ha – can you imagine? “Mr. Parent: Your child needs significant improvement in math. I wish your wife would have breastfed longer.”
“Mrs. Mom: Your child needs help focusing. I wish he would have focused a little more on a bottle full of formula.”

Shockingly, people make the whole process of choosing meals for their baby much more confusing and stressful than it should be. When it comes down to it….feed your kid.
Breastmilk? Awesome.
Formula? Awesome.
In the end, if you are feeding your kid then you are probably trying to keep him/her alive. Good job! Keep it up!

The second most important thing I learned: Try to stop judging.

Before I had Ben, I nonchalantly thought, “Duh…why WOULDN’T I breastfeed!?” After all, I was breastfed and my mom always put a positive light on it, science backs it, and it couldn’t be that hard, right? After all…..it’s natural!

Natural. Ahhh….my favorite reason to breastfeed. It’s just natural! So easy, right? Women in caves could breastfeed – so I could definitely nurse a kid with my feet propped up watching the latest season of So You Think You Can Dance? Right? Well, running is also natural, yet we are not all Kenyan distance athletes. Some people run dozens of marathons and get a thrill. Some people jog a block and hate the entire experience. Some people dispense milk like Old Faithful. Some people pump for 20 minutes, get an ounce, and weep. And that’s okay. People are different. So the “it’s natural” argument doesn’t work for me.

Okay then. How about the cost factor? Formula is SO expensive!! Yes. Yes it is. But have you priced out nursing? A pump, pump supplies, freezer bags, nipple cream, nursing attire, nursing covers, nursing pillows, grocery supplies for lactation cookies and every other home remedy to boost milk supply….you get my point. Plus you will still need bottles and all of that fun stuff that goes along with that if you are going back to work and plan on having your child fed while you are away – which, once again, I very much recommend. (I realize nursing is free if you have the availability to be with your child around the clock. But if time is money, you are spending a lot of it.)

But it’s so convenient!!!! I’m sorry, what? Being on a 180 minute boob-timer for days to weeks to months on end is not exactly a walk in the park. And if you have a slow yet voracious eater like my Ben, that’s 45 minutes out of every 3 hours where you have to be in a position to have a baby attached to your chest. Finally, a morning to run errands and I pumped enough to have my husband watch the baby? AMAZING! Wait – what is that pain? Oh! The tingling! I need to get home NOW! And I’m sorry – but shaking a bottle for 45 seconds and passing your kid to another adult is sometimes much more convenient than whipping out your boob in a public place.

What about the BONDING!??! How will your child ever love you if you feed him with a bottle!? Maybe I’m just cold, but I just didn’t get this part. Shoving Ben under my t-shirt in the middle of the mall was not as awesome as looking him in the eye while he was sucking on a bottle. Plus, then he got to bond with my husband and parents and anyone else who wanted to help out while I – gasp – showered.

Like I said earlier – this might sound anti-breastfeeding. I’m just saying the reasons that are often used to breastfeed aren’t always good ones, and they can make people feel guilty. Stick to the science of it being an AMAZING food source and that should be good enough.

So if you’ve made it this far, you will get to know a little more about my personal experience. Yep, it’s going to get personal up in this blog. Deal.

The hospital class for breastfeeding was a 2 hour lecture by a woman who obviously loved breastfeeding. She also loved being really condescending and preachy about it. At one point I thought, “Man…I wanted to breastfeed before, but now I might choose the bottle just to spite this woman.” Yes, I was considering spite formula. I am a complicated woman. Anyway, she easily glazed over the complications and told us all about techniques and positions. All right….it can’t be that hard.

Flash forward to 2 days home from the hospital with a screaming baby at 3 AM, pain that caused me to kicked the floor, yell out, thrust my newborn at my husband while yelling, “I HATE THIS!”, and have me start uncontrollably weeping. Yeah….the lady didn’t tell me that would happen. Mother of the year! But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I honestly don’t remember much about feeding Ben for the first time. Maybe it’s because I was just coming out of general anesthesia and was still getting used to the concept that I just went from having zero problems to being put under and having a baby cut out of me in under 2 hours. Yeah, that’s probably it. But I do remember the relief that the first feeding went well. What a weird sensation. I am woman, hear me roar!

Things continued to go well in the hospital, but I started to get a bit sore. A lovely nurse explained to me why I was experiencing pain, and I got to say, “Oh…THAT’S what cracked nipples look like. NEAT.” I met with a lactation consultant for a 90 minute boot camp session. It was very helpful but rather intimidating. I had no idea what to ask. It was at this time when I got some half-advice from this lady to pump for 15 minutes after every daytime feeding to stimulate production. This was because he was 3 weeks early and a sleepy eater, so it would jump start things. I later learned that this probably only needed to happen at the very beginning and I could stop after a couple weeks, but she never told me that part. So I just kept going for as long as I could (5-6 weeks?) with this process until I started hating everything and realized that it was ridiculous.

Now under the assumption that more stimulation = more milk, I should have been equivalent to Niagra Falls. After all, I was “stimulating” with nursing or pumping roughly 1 hour out of every 4. Yep, 6 hours a day. But did my boobs runneth over? Nope! I worked for every drop, ate pounds of oatmeal, drank gallons of water, and I learned that you totally can – and should – cry over spilled milk.

Anyway, I came home from the hospital feeling pretty good. By “pretty good” I mean “a hormonal mess hopped up on pain killers and mommy hormones”. God bless my husband. Because flash up to that part about the 3 AM weep-a-thon…I was in PAIN. Heating pads, nursing, ice packs, repeat. The first 30 seconds of feeding sessions were torture. Cue the breathing exercises I never used in labor. But I was told that as long as his latch looked like what it did in the hospital and the pain subsided after the initial latch, all was well. Greeeeat.

Luckily my husband knew it was important for me to do this, and he basically waited on me hand and foot. I have NO idea how women would do this without a supportive partner. And even better for me – he has the ability to put up with a ridiculously stubborn woman. I heard all about how if you miss one feeding, etc, it will ruin your supply and your baby will hate you forever and steal the car when he’s a teenager. Okay, maybe not the last part, but for some reason I was DETERMINED not to let a drop of formula touch my baby. If we gave him formula, Ben would reject me and I would dry up. Silly, stubborn Heidi. So I did it. I went three months as an exclusive breast feeder. (It felt like much, much longer.)

At this point I need to give a shout out to the people who have actual breast feeding issues. Don’t get me started on the horror stories of mastitis, tongue-tied babies, or other complications. I applaud the exclusive pumpers. If I wanted to quit so badly with “only” sore, cracked nipples and supply issues, I can’t imagine that additional trouble. Rock on, ladies. Rock on.

Oh, and you can also blame my supply struggles on my love of sleep. Did you know you are supposed to WAKE THE BABY? They told me to wake up the baby every three hours. Every three hours and your newborn will flourish and your boobs will turn into milk machines. WAKE UP THE BABY. Yeah….that was hard for me. You can blame my sluggish supply on those times when I turned the crying baby over to my husband with pumped milk and slept for 5 glorious hours in a row. I’ll own that.

I was also just as surprised that once your baby starts sleeping in larger chunks, your boobs won’t sleep. The first time Ben slept for 7 hours I woke up in a panic and started crying. In a panic because I was sure he stopped breathing. Crying because my boobs were rocks and I thought my chest might explode. What a crazy process…

Around the 5 week mark I went to the nursing support group at the local hospital. I should have gone MUCH sooner, as the lady was very helpful and answered lots of questions. However, even there I was judged within the first 2 minutes. The lady side-eyed me and shared her opinion that my pacifier would corrupt my child into a life of drugs. Oops, I mean, it might throw off our feedings. I politely thanked her, hid the paci, and shoved it back in his mouth the second I left. I’m sorry – Ben loved to suck. Nursing around the clock, his pacifier, his hand, a blanket… it was a pacifier or him screaming. Binky wins. Oh, and on this long side note, he totally gave it up on his own at the 3 month mark and kept on wanting to nurse. Take that, helpful lactation consultant!

So the issue of formula crept up again around the three month mark. I’m a teacher, and December was looming. It was time to go back to work – I had to face the music.

I’ve been pumping for two months to plan ahead.
I’ve been pumping for two months to plan ahead.
But my baby’s getting bigger,
And as much as I can figure,
We’ll run out of milk in days – he won’t get fed!

Once again, I know women who can breast feeding like champs – no pain – and can have a freezer full of extra. Man….that was not me. I worked SO HARD and Ben was going to run out of my freezer stash in less than a week. So I ripped off the band-aid and gave him some formula. I wept again. But you know what? Ben didn’t care AT ALL. He still nursed when I wanted him to, and he was happy to have some extra formula. All of the sudden, both of us got So. Much. Happier. The pressure was off and something magical happened. I started to – gulp – enjoy our time breast feeding. I was able to relax and realize that it okay to get some help. It’s okay to give myself a break. We will all be okay.

So I went back to work – my breast feeding downfall. My supply tanked. I was able to nurse Ben around 6:30 before school. But then my choices were to pump during planning time (9:45-10:15) or lunch/recess 11:30-12:15). And that included dropping off my students, getting back to my room, and cleaning up before they came charging in. Oh yeah, and that’s also my time to plan, copy, grade, organize, eat, and get things done! Now I could have played the breast feeding card and demanded someone to cover my class or clear out an office, but in a small school with unpredictable schedules of people to cover things and no extra space, you just don’t mess with it. It wasn’t worth it to me to inconvenience other people so I could sit by myself and listen to the rhythmic blasting of that crazy pump. Plus, in that time frame I was only able to get out 6 ounces. Ben was eating triple that at daycare…so…..UGH. And my supply also decreased at home. I was nursing him and then having to give a follow up bottle of formula. I decided to call it.

What I am about to say should make me feel like an awful mother, but I am going to own it. Giving up breast feeding was AWESOME. It was so liberating to free myself from the pump, the washing of the pump parts, and the schedule. After the painful process of stopping, my boobs started to get back to normal. In other words, I wasn’t constantly in pain or aware of them. It was amazing.

There was guilt with stopping though. I found myself shaking the bottle under tables or somehow defending my choice to stop. It took some time, but I learned to own it. And now Ben is 14 months old, slugs cow’s milk like a champ, and no one cares about my nursing experiences. Except maybe you. Thanks for still reading.

And if you are interested in a summary of my tips and thoughts (Hi, future Heidi!), here are my thoughts for you.

1.) Listen to your instincts.
I got good advice. I got bad advice. I rarely listened to myself. Next time, I will listen to myself.

2.) You can only control so much.
Pregnancies are different. Delivery is different. BABIES ARE DIFFERENT. Boobs are different. Do the best with what you have.

3.) Chill Out. Your baby will survive a 15 minute car ride home.
My screaming baby once convinced me that he would die if he wasn’t fed immediately. I nursed him in the backseat in a Walmart parking lot. Heidi, seriously. Just go home.

4.) Own it.
Mix that bottle proudly. Whip out that boob with gusto. A baby fed in public is better than a baby screaming in public.

5.) Love your boobs.
A good friend once said she barely wore a shirt for the first 2 weeks. I laughed. Then I called her and said how right she was. Let those things air out. Put cream on when you don’t think you need to. Rock those nipple shells and pretend no one can notice them under your shirt.

6.) It’s only temporary.
I got stuck in a bad place where I thought I would never feel normal again. Your boobs will return to a place where they don’t tingle or hurt every minute of the day. It is possible.

7.) Keep an open mind or keep your mouth shut.
There is too much stress with a newborn to have anyone feel guilty about the basic task of feeding their kid.

8.) Don’t quit – unless you want to.
I’m glad I didn’t quit in the first 3 days like I wanted to. Do I fault people if they do? Heck no. It’s hard. Some people have traumatic deliveries or other medical/personal reasons not to. You’re cool with me, sisters!

9.) Get help.
I give a bad time to the class and the support group, but they really were helpful. Those that seem to judge you the most might be the ones that care the most. And if you don’t like one person’s advice, seek out different advice. That’s the beauty of living in the time of the Internet.

10.) You are not alone.
Legend has it that my dad’s mom was such a nursing whiz that she fed other babies in the hospital. Rock on, Grandma! (Can you imagine that happening now!?) But to make that story true, it means that there were frustrated women in that hospital that needed another woman to come in and help out. Whether you have a supply for the masses or it’s just not working for you, you are not alone.

So obviously this topic is something that I’ve thought about over the last year. And when it comes down to it: Feed your kid and peace be with you.

Much love from a mommy that will sometimes mess up but will always love her kid.