In Mourning

Well, the day has finally arrived. Whenever I decide to unfreeze it, the last bag of frozen breastmilk will be gone. I think I will wear black that day. And I should have a proper burial for my pump--I will put her away with pomp and circumstance. She will not be sharing a plastic bin with clothes that Drew has outgrown or toys that he no longer wants to play with. NO. She will have her own personal storage bin, and all of her bits and pieces will be stored away carefully in Ziploc bags. R.I.P. Miss Medela. Until we meet again. (Although, word on the maternity street is that insurance pays for a new pump with each pregnancy. WHA-HOO!)

I have some friends who will mourn with me, and who would probably even attend Miss Medela's burial, if I asked. I have other friends who would never consider breastfeeding and therefore wouldn't understand why I'm in mourning. And I have some friends who DID breastfeed, but did NOT have such a good experience. I try not to judge anyone's personal decisions/feelings about breastfeeding, but dang, it is difficult, given all of the current medical studies and APA recommendations.

Breastfeeding didn't exactly turn out as I had planned it. Despite the horror stories that I heard from most of my friends and/or colleagues who had breastfed, I was completely motivated, especially after having read So That's What They're For by Janet Tamaro. Plus, it was helpful that while I was pregnant, I visited a friend who breastfed her twins...at the same time... My goodness, I thought--if she could single-handedly provide nourishment for two babies, certainly I could provide for one. Because I had read so much, I also felt very empowered. The first six months were AMAZING and EASY and almost perfect. Getting started was a little frustrating, as in the hospital it seemed every nurse had her own "sure-fire" way to get Drew to latch on. But just like it was written in the many books/websites I read, eventually with lots of practice and patience both Drew and I caught on. Oh sure, I had to nurse (no pun intended) my right side back to health after a rough, very sore beginning. But other than that, breastfeeding worked for us. I can't think of anything so completely satisfying than to be the sole food source for your child. How amazing is it that by my body's design, Drew received the exact nourishment he needed?! And because he ate so frequently, he received the touch, love, and security he needed to foster his emotional health. So since it had worked so well during my maternity leave, my original plan was to breastfeed exclusively for a year, pumping while at work, but actually breastfeeding while at home. If only life worked out as we planned. Wouldn't that be easy?

During my maternity leave, I pumped frequently in addition to breastfeeding. I got my pump out initially to help heal the sore breast the first week I was home. I could pump from it, but not feed Drew from it. Then when I was able to nurse from both sides, I kept pumping here and there--usually right after Drew would feed. First of all, I was completely fascinated with how much I could produce. Second, I loved counting up the ounces in the freezer and figuring out how many days' supply I had in case some emergency arose. Thank goodness no emergencies came up, though, because I was able to build up a pretty respectable store in our freezer. And thank goodness, too, because once I started back to work, and Drew got bottles every single day, he became less and less interested in actually breastfeeding. How dare he! My letdown didn't come fast enough, nor was he very patient. So at 6 months, Drew had cut himself back to feeding only in the evening, and the wee hours of the morning (I was so thankful he still "needed" me in the middle of the night). And MAYBE (if I was lucky) he would nurse groggily before I went to work. Regardless, I had to not only pump at work, but pump at home in order to keep up with Drew's needs. And I was pretty much pumping my guts out, because I was rarely able to pump enough in one session to equal a feeding. I am still jealous of those over-producers out there!

Finally, after about two months of pumping at work and pumping at home, I thought I might go crazy. Not to mention trying to figure out how to work full-time and be a good mother. That is a whole different post! Anyway, as Thanksgiving neared, I caved. I started mixing formula with breastmilk, and I started reducing my pumping sessions little by little. OH THE GUILT. And not to MENTION the fact that just as I am beginning to give Drew some formula, the reports about traces of melamine in Nestle Good Start formula hit the news. OH DOUBLE GUILT. Let me just tell you, I can't wait until Drew can drink cow's milk, because I am completely embarrassed to buy formula. I would rather walk down a crowed street with two leaking breasts than to buy a container of formula in public. Shut up to those of you who think I'm being over-dramatic. (1) I like being a little dramatic (2) my kid's IQ will probably be higher than yours...just kidding...well, really I'm not and (3) I consider breastfeeding my child in my top FIVE greatest life accomplishments--especially in our culture which does so little to support breastfeeding moms!

Luckily, I have had a great support network of people to listen to and to help me through my trials and tribulations including my husband, my mom, some good friends who really do/did enjoy breastfeeding, and the lactation consultants in my breastfeeding group. So I've decided the next best thing I can do is to support other breastfeeding moms out there. And I'll be there for them when they're in mourning.