Getting over breastfeeding in public

I have been thinking about this recent article in the Huffington Post: If you don't support breastfeeding in public, you don't support breastfeeding, in the context of my recent travels.

My neck of the woods tends to have higher breastfeeding rates than the rest of the country.  I don't know a lot of women my mother's age who didn't breastfeed for a while, and certainly my neighborhood has more breastfeeders than you can shake a stick at.  It was enough to make me feel like a total pariah with my bottles to supplement my little one before we had his lip tie fixed, or as I refer to it, "the before time."  Not everyone, of course, was breastfeeding exclusively, but in the early days when I was having all sorts of problems with it, it sure felt like it to me.  My lack of confidence in my ability to breastfeed my baby coupled with his then-frequent and nursing strikes were powerful barriers to my feeling comfortable about breastfeeding in public in "the before time."

I was in Vegas over the weekend and in several airports along the way, and I was surprised by the number of bottles I saw whenever there was a baby nearby.  Surprised because that's not as common where I live.  It's just not what you see a lot of here.  It was kind of good to have a reality check.

But it had me thinking about breastfeeding in public.  Because my little one is 13 months now, he doesn't nurse very much anymore.... except for when he wants comfort.  And when he's far from home and cranky from jetlag, and overwhelmed by Vegas, let me tell you, he wanted to nurse for comfort.  A lot.  Especially on the plane.  In public.  And it was wonderful to feel perfectly at ease and confident knowing that my baby wanted to nurse.  That's enough for me.

More about the female form

Great article:  How to Lose The Baby Weight in Just Three Lightning-Fast Years

My favorite line is:

"It is a strange state, indeed: neither pregnant, nor out of shape, but showing a visible history of pregnancy. In spite of weighing more and looking different, I was never healthier than when I was pregnant and just after, in large part to the dynamic shift in lifestyle toward eating well and moving more. But we don't connect health to physical appeal per se, as any healthy person who isn't thin can tell you. And when a body shows signs of use beyond the sexual or athletic, we don't seem to know how to respond to it."

Amen.

Can we talk about how tired I am of the tendency to equate weight and shape with health? Obesity has become a verbal shortcut for illness, but what's wrong with using blood pressure, cholesterol levels, and blood sugar? I guess it's just a little too easy to hate on flesh and a little too hard to make long sentences.  

At any rate, in case you were feeling bad about yourself, here's a new ad from Dove that might make you smile. Granted, most of the women in this video are pretty thin, but the message is sincere.

I'm determined to love my new body the way it is, and I don't care if you think I'm wrong

I hate to admit this, because it is so trivial, but I have been feeling bad about my physical shape lately. And that pisses me off.  The fact is that I had a baby and my body is going to be different afterwards.  In addition, as the author of the piece I'll link to in a moment states, bodies change throughout a life anyway.  That's NORMAL and healthy.  What's not normal and healthy are all the messages I get from the outside world that tell me I should be trying to get my "body back," meaning that I should, as soon as possible, try to get back to the shape I was in prior to carrying a baby.  Prior to bearing a baby.  Prior to breastfeeding.  Prior to parenthood.  And, for that matter, my pre-pregnancy body probably wasn't up to snuff anyway, according to the advertisements everywhere.

To be honest, I was happiest with my body when I was pregnant.  I felt radiant.  I loved carrying a child in me, and I felt powerful with biology and motherhood.  I felt beyond judgment.  I know that's not everyone's experience, but I'm glad I had those positive feelings.  Thirteen months post-partum, I feel pretty crappy.

The other day, I had a profound experience in yoga.  I put my hand on my belly and hummed into my softer tummy.  As I hummed at a pitch where I could feel my voice in my tummy, I started to cry.  Yes, my tummy was telling me that it feels neglected and unloved by the person from whom it needs love most: me.

So, then and there, I decided to love this new softness.  I've been approaching this post-partum body thing all wrong--intellectually.  Intellectually, I know that the ads are bulls***.  Intellectually, I know how to be cool with where my body is.  But intellect doesn't cut it up against the powerful marketing telling us that we can never be thin enough, the marketing that tells us that we're even supposed to want our old bodies back, the marketing that implies there's something wrong with me if I don't want my old body back.  Eff that, man.  I'm done with that, and I'm setting about to love my softer, motherly belly.

Stop Telling Me I Should Focus on Getting My Old Body Back

A Second Chance at Breastfeeding

I recently read this article on the Huffington Post, which brought me to tears.  I do not know why the author's breastfeeding experience was so difficult, and it sounds like she doesn't either.  Although, if I had to guess, it would have something to do with the tongue tie that she refers to some lactation consultants thinking her son might have had.  I couldn't help but comment in the event that my experience helps anyone at all.  I know that when you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail.  I don't want to sound like a one-issue person, but my experience with other women tells me how common and misunderstood ties are.

At any rate, read on.  With sympathy and compassion, please.

The fact is that I don't know what I'll do if future kid #2 turns out to be this difficult to breastfeed.

A Second Chance at Breastfeeding

A humble request

Somewhat to my surprise, my blog is getting real traffic for the first time in years. This tells me that there are a lot of people out there having a tough time breastfeeding and are looking for leads.

I am making it a mini life mission to spread the word about tongue tie and lip tie because it had such an impact on me and my child.  I don't think that anyone who hasn't attempted to nurse can begin to appreciate the emotional and physical agony that accompany ties for both mom and baby.  The first six months of my baby's life were my hardest, and not just for the usual reasons that infants complicate life.  And all it took to turn it around was a 3 minute laser surgery.  I want my experience to benefit others.

So.  If it turns out your little one has it, and fixing it helps, please tell others about your experience.  For me, it took some time to heal from the emotional roller-coaster before I was ready to spread the word.  I fully appreciate that will be the case for a lot of you.  But please, do it.  Your story just might make someone else's life easier.  Knowledge alone cannot fix everything, but it's a start.