BREASTFEEDING: BONDING OR BONDAGE??!!!

To breastfeed or not to breastfeed…that is the question. Sure this may not be as profound as Shakespeare’s question to live or to die, but probably the most difficult decision for many new Moms to make. I have to admit, for me breastfeeding came relatively easy with my two children. I didn’t have problems with latching, it wasn’t painful and I produced enough milk… Not enough milk to feed a small army, but enough milk to feed my little soldier. I really enjoyed breastfeeding my son (he breastfed until 9 months and is now 3.5 years old), and still do with my daughter (six months old), but breastfeeding doesn’t come without a cost.

As I stood in the shower this morning I pondered how long I would be able to breastfeed my six month old daughter. In the past week I’ve noticed my breasts aren’t as engorged as they used to be. They are starting to flatten out on the top and my bras aren’t filling out as much. When I pump, I’m not even getting a full feeding, and just last weekend I depleted the breast milk storage. I am a full time Mom with the exception of two days a week when I have a babysitter for six hours. This means I have to pump 2-3 feedings for each of those days. That’s a lot of pumping! When I’m home with my daughter, I don’t really keep a schedule. I did with my son, but he was a much different baby. He was fussier, I was sleepier, and keeping a schedule was a necessity for my sanity. I also supplemented with formula when he was 5 months old at the advice of a woman who was helping me sleep train him. He seemed fussy when I breastfed him and she suggested he wasn’t getting enough milk. She recommended I start pumping and monitoring how much he was eating. It was soon after that I started supplementing because he was eating far more than I realized, and I couldn’t keep up. Maybe that’s what’s happening now with my daughter?! When I’m home with her I just feed her “on demand”. When she’s fussy or she’s having trouble falling asleep, or when I want to sooth her (or myself), breastfeeding is my secret weapon (probably the number one reason to breastfeed in my opinion…love that secret weapon!). But the babysitter doesn’t have that secret weapon, so I have to make sure she has milk to spare!

The thing about pumping is, it’s a pain in the butt. Even if you have the all-important breast-pumping bra and put on your favorite reality show, it’s still a pain. And it’s humiliating…even if you’re in a room by yourself. There’s just nothing attractive about pumping. Ask most Moms; it’s pumping that makes breastfeeding feel like a burden. Just when you want to have NOTHING to do, you have to pump! WA WA WA WA WA WA (that’s the sound of the breast pump)!

So I sat there in the shower contemplating whether now was the time to start supplementing. I don’t know why, but when women go from solely breastfeeding to using formula it feels like some judgment is coming down and the guilt sets in. Will my baby get fat now (I know, very superficial and unimportant!)? Will she immediately grow up? Will we lose our bond? Will she be like every other baby? Will I be less of an earth Mother? When you do something that is so natural for so long, it is difficult to consider things any other way. But sometimes necessity takes the choice out of our hands.

So there I was, in the shower examining my breasts, noticing how UNfull of milk they felt, and I knew I had an event to go to which would take me away from my baby for four hours. I got out of the shower and was already pressed for time. I put on my breast pumping bra and my robe and affixed all the necessary gear and starting pumping. Since I was short for time, I blew dry my hair at the same time (gotta love the multi-tasking – I’ve also danced and pumped at the same time – now that takes skill)….As I was pumping and blow drying (working up a sweat I might add), I hear someone knocking at the door downstairs. The dogs start barking. It’s the babysitter and a painful reminder of how little milk is coming out and the decision I’m going to be faced with momentarily. I start sweating more. I have so much to do before I have to leave and I have to arrive at this event on time. No milk is coming. I have thirty minutes before I have to leave. I have to finish my hair, get dressed, pay the garage door repair guys who have been in my house all day, prep the sitter for the afternoon (she is a new sitter by the way)…no milk……… And, finally, I have a moment. I turn off the blow dryer and look in the mirror at myself. I look like a machine with all the breast pumping equipment hanging off me. My breast are sagging. There isn’t any milk in there right now. I know what I need to do, and I finally accept it. Formula. Why am I stressing myself out? Pushing myself up against a wall? I have worked hard to breastfeed and pump and take care of my baby for six months. And I’ve done a great job. She’s amazingly healthy and beautiful. I’m a good Mom. I WANT to continue breastfeeding her and I will. But at this moment, it is what it is, and there isn’t enough milk. My decision is made and I’m at peace with it. But it’s not without some sadness. The babysitter comes in my room and she asks about the feeding schedule. I tell her there isn’t really one. I just know when she’s hungry and I feed her. She asks where the milk is. I show her the barely 3 ounces I just pumped and I point to the can of formula. This will be the first time I say. And there’s silence. And then I start justifying it. She is very understanding, but part of me feels like I’m failing…like I’m letting HER down. I’m going to keep breastfeeding her I insist! Why do I have to prove anything to anyone anyway? But I do. I love breastfeeding my daughter. But I know when enough is enough, and I’ve put myself under enough pressure. It’s time to let myself off the hook. So we make a bottle of formula and went to my event.

I really enjoyed the event. I enjoyed being dressed up and out on the town as a woman, an adult…not a Mom. When it came time to go home, I didn’t want to. I was enjoying myself. I wanted to stay out longer. But duty called. I went home and found my babysitter feeding my baby the bottle of formula. She took it fine. I knew she would. Later that night I breastfed her to sleep and pumped afterward. And this morning I breastfed her again.

I am starting to realize that as a Mom, AND as a person, I have to find balance and give myself a break. If I pressure myself too much about anything, it will take away from the enjoyment of everything. I would rather enjoy breastfeeding my daughter when I can and not worry about it when I can’t. I am lucky, I know, to be able to breastfeed her at all. And I am grateful for that.

THE EVOLVING MOM

So, I have been blogging lately about being a Bad Mom. By Bad Mom I don’t mean that I’m REALLY a bad Mom. I don’t abuse or neglect my child or anything like that. But there are plenty of days when I size myself up and just plain don’t MEASURE UP. I constantly tell myself I should be playing with my son more – heck, I should WANT to play with my son more – that I should have more patience and more desire to “just” be a Mom. These THOUGHTS are what make me feel like a Bad Mom. Cuz “Good” Moms always want to play with their kids, and do it often, have an abundance of patience and are always in healthy communication with their child (ie. Not yelling or loosing it…or crying infront of their kid BECAUSE of their kid…which I’ve done a couple times lately)…. You get my drift. It’s the Good Mom vs. Bad Mom wars. And the 64,000 question is…what makes a good Mom anyway and who’s to judge? Some days I wish there were some all powerful Oz watching over me and announcing in an ominous voice “You were a Bad Mom today”….or “You were a Good Mom today” so I wouldn’t have to constantly wonder. I’d have some way to measure. But lately I’ve been feeling like I’m actually a pretty good Mom. Now, this could be because my son is not acting out as much (I barely survived the past couple months of terrible two terrorist torture- you know the 4 T’s – don’t ya Moms?!) But my son is easier now, communicates more, OBEYS more and therefore, I am a better Mom. I love how that works. He’s not a better kid, I’m a better Mom. And, I’m pregnant, in my second trimester, so I’m in this state of nesting bliss. Even my husband said “You’re always in a good mood”. Now, if you only knew how out of the ordinary that is. I mean, those words would typically NEVER come out of his mouth! So maybe it’s pregnancy hormones, but lately I don’t really feel right calling myself a Bad Mom. So, this made me starting thinking about WHAT kind of Mom I am (cuz I need a label, ya know?!) And I got to thinking about how I’ve evolved as a Mom. I started out feeling like I needed to break out of prison. I couldn’t even be home all day with my newborn without leaving the house. I didn’t have a job, but I would pretend I was on maternity leave to trick myself that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. An escape hatch to Motherhood. Almost the entire first year of my son’s life I would have a conversation going on in my head – while I was at the park, while I was changing my son’s diaper, while I was feeding my son, while I was having sex with my husband (ok, not then….just wanted to make sure you were paying attention)…. And the conversation would go something like “This is not enough. I can’t believe this is what you’re doing with your life. This is ALL you’re doing. You should be doing more. You’re wasting yourself/your life.” I don’t want my kids to read this one day and think I regreted having them or being a Mom. It wasn’t about that at all. I loved my son dearly (and still do, even after his terrible two’s)… It was about me EVOLVING into this identity of full time Mom. Before I had kids, I was 100% career driven. That defined me. Ever since I graduated college I was like a race horse looking for a track. Money driven, success driven, power driven, you name it. I was in several different industries and was on a constant search for that “thing” I was meant to do with my life. I always knew I wanted to have kids, but I never dreamed of or planned on being a “stay at home Mom”. In fact, I wondered how someone could be happy doing that. I guess I always imagined being a working Mom. Truth is, I didn’t have a plan. But as fate would have it, I was working in the Mortgage industry before I got married, and after a 3 year run and 1 million dollars later (I got in when the going was GOOD), I lost my job and discovered I was never passionate about it in the first place. Then, an unexpected turn of events! My husband and I got married on The Today Show. That is a WHOLE other story – see Today Show Throws a Wedding BLOG – and I quit the mortgage business and never looked back. After our Today Show Wedding, I decided to pursue my long term dream of being a television personality. I was going to be the next Oprah! Now I know better (visit my How I Became A TV Host BLOG). But the unexpected twist in THAT plan was getting pregnant. Yup, after 37 years of trying NOT to get pregnant, I didn’t know if I could. So I never thought that the first time would be the charm. But sure enough, in the comfort of the Club Quarters hotel in New York, and during the Today Show Wedding competition, my husband and I conceived our first child, Hudson. We didn’t know I was pregnant until after the wedding and honeymoon (maybe my son is a thrill seeker because I bungee jumped from 400+feet with him in my womb on our honeymoon!)… So, my plans of getting an agent and a TV gig were temporarily put on hold. But I did find Marki Costello’s hosting school and began building my craft as a TV host. But I disgress, this whole blog is about EVOLVING. And, really, how I evolved from a hard core career person to a stay at home Mom. Because, for me anyway, Motherhood is a constant state of evolution. Some might say it’s an attempt to achieve balance, but what’s that? As soon as you have balance, something changes, and you’re out of balance again. So I don’t strive to have balance. I strive to evolve, to keep evolving, and to roll with and adapt to the evolution. At first I couldn’t imagine being a stay home Mom. Then I grew into it and developed an appreciation for it, and learned what I needed to do to be true to myself in the process (continuing to pursue my dream of being on TV). Then I got my body back and my energy back and I felt like my old self again, wanting to do the things my “old self” did – the pre-Mommy me. And then I got pregnant again. Back to the drawing board. Now I once again am redefining myself and my purpose. I can’t drink, I can’t dance on tabletops, I can’t run a marathon. I have a baby growing in my body. I have lost a sense of self, but I am gaining a much better part of myself – a new child. And I know the day will come again when I will have my body back (to myself) and feel like my old self again…and I’m sure I’ll have to go through several iterations of evolution before that happens. And that’s ok. Like I said, Evolution.

ATTENTION MOTHERS OF CRYING BABIES!

I don’t think there is any way to condition yourself to hear your baby cry. It’s not something you can prepare yourself for either, which is why there aren’t any “baby crying” self help CD’s on the market for new Moms. Sure, you’ve heard babies cry – on airplanes, in restaurants - but until it’s YOUR baby, it’s just white noise – something in the background so familiar to you, you don’t even hear it. Well, when it’s your baby, believe me, YOU HEAR IT. It is the most disturbing, distracting sound you’ve ever heard!!!!!! And unless you have one of those “perfect” babies – what are THOSE anyway??!! – your baby WILL cry. They will cry at first because they have no other way to express themselves. This is how they get their point across, and boy do they!

When my baby was first born, he would scream and cry bloody murder in the car. I KNOW, most babies fall asleep in the car. In fact, a lot of Moms go for car rides in order to put their babies to sleep. Well, not my baby. And the worst part about the car rides (from hell) is that we had to do so many of them. When Hudson was born, we were living with our in laws (that’s a whole different blog entry!) Our house was being remodeled and it wasn’t a suitable place to bring an infant home to. Very fortunately for us, we had somewhere else to go. But unfortunately for us, that somewhere else was far away. Our in laws lived about one hour from our house, without traffic. That’s an oxymoron since we live in LA – there is always traffic. So depending on what time of day we would commute between the two houses, the drive could take up to 1.5 to 2 hours. With a screaming infant in the backseat, you can only imagine the types of guns I fantasized about putting to my head on a bad day (that’s a joke by the way!)

Part of the reason we had to drive back and forth between the two houses so much was because I had to manage the remodel project and make sure everything was on track. The other reason why is because I had to get out of the house!