Lillie James,
I can't believe you are 21 months old. (By the way, I much prefer to say that you will be two in April when people ask me how old you are but for the purposes of the topic of this blog, I am going to say 21 months old because it will paint a better picture of just how far you and I have come in the last 17 months).
About a week ago, as I was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, I saw a post by a TV personality* (who is always refreshingly honest) in which she stated, "Today marks the day I am DONE with breastfeeding. Gave it a good almost 3 months and I am retiring the boobs. Writing this in hopes that it will make other mothers feel less alone. You see, I'm not quitting because my milk supply dried up or because I'm sick . . . I'm quitting because I'm just plain OVER IT. By CHOICE. I know I will get lectured and judged by this but it doesn't bother me. I need some freedom back for my sanity and the bottle and formula will allow that. You are NOT a bad mother if you don't like breastfeeding. A happy Mama is the best gift you can give your baby. (At least in my opinion)."
It's been 17 months since I quit breastfeeding you and about 18 months since I began grappling with whether or not I would be ruining your life if I quit. You see, as a new mom, things like quitting breastfeeding or what temperature your room is at night seem like monumental decisions that will affect your growth, development, safety, and intelligence. There are what seems like an endless slew of decisions to make and the gravity of those decisions can sometimes feel like an insurmountable endeavor.
You see, before you were even born I had people asking if was going to breastfeed you. Every visit to the OB would start off with, "Do you feel safe at home? Any questions or concerns? Do you plan on breastfeeding the child when he/she is born?" They handed out gobs of literature on breastfeeding and your dad and I paid for a class about it in which they put the fear of God in you that if you didn't breastfeed your child, he/she would possibly have asthma, would possibly be sick all the time, would possibly be overweight, and that breastfeed children are generally more intelligent. I would always answer their nagging (and personal) question of, "Do you plan on breastfeeding the baby when he/she is born?" with, "Yes, but if it doesn't work, I will be doing formula." (Cue more stock responses about how it's important to breastfeed la la la la la).
Now, before having you, there was absolutely no way to stimulate all that comes along with breastfeeding: The physical toll, the emotional toll, the mental toll, the equipment needed, the going to the store with breast milk stains on your shirt, the creams for your nipples, the weird remedies for low milk supply or clogged ducts. It was a can of worms that was opened during our second moments together (I passed out during our first) when a nurse was trying to show me how to get you to latch onto me at midnight. Anything anyone is trying to show me at midnight is going to be an issue, because well, I am not a night owl, my love.
It did not go very well. My milk hadn't come in yet so they had a lactation consultant come into the room to help me figure it out. Bless her heart, she meant well, but she was too much. She would have been too much at 8:00 a.m., high noon, five in the evening; but, it was the middle of the night so naturally, I wanted to murder her. We had to stay in the hospital for a few days because of my c-section and you being the tiniest bit jaundice; during that stay I tried getting you to latch so many different ways but you just weren't really getting anything and were not gaining so we had to give you formula but in an effort to not cause nipple confusion we attached the tiniest tube to the formula and set the end of tube right by my nipple so that you could still latch but be getting formula. It was a lot and very overwhelming as a new mother.
We took you home and I was in for my second surprise about motherhood. In eighth grade, we were given a fake baby that we had to take care of in hopes of scaring us out of having a baby at a young age. You are given a key that has to stay on your wrist because let's face it, it would be too easy for parents to help their kids otherwise. (Sidenote: Ask your dad about how your Poppy still managed to take care of your dad's baby despite the key being on his wrist someday because it speaks volumes to just how much parents do for their kids and how sweet your Poppy is). So, back to this baby - when I had mine for the night I never woke up even though the baby was lying next to me. Your Nonna had to keep coming to wake me up. And even still, I got pretty lucky and it didn't cry all that much so it didn't really prepare me at all for motherhood.
The problem with that baby is real babies are not something you can just hold a key in to meet their needs. When you woke up every 2-3 hours, you needed me, and only me. I had what you needed and all my helpers could tell I was losing it from a lack of sleep and suggested that I pump so they could wake up and give you a bottle. The suggestion was sweet and thoughtful, but I would always respond with, "I will still have to wake up to pump so it's easier to just feed her and go back to sleep." I couldn't just lay you beside me and hold a key inside of you until you quit crying. The only thing that would have help was if somehow everyone just had an abundant supply of breastmilk on hand. Oh, that and the fact that me skipping would cause some kind of painful breast issue.
In the first month and a half, I started to get the hang of it somewhat and I liked it because it was something that I could do to have one on one time with you during a slew of visitors. It was a much needed break for me, but it soon began to take it's toll. Before you, I knew I always loved a good night's sleep and needed a little more than some people (a good 8 or 9 hours is what I like to achieve) so you waking up every 2-3 hours was weighing on me emotionally and mentally. That paired with the fact that I felt trapped in the sense that if I was gone too long, you would starve or I would begin leaking everywhere. It was such a strange thing to me to have someone be fully dependent on me and the process felt very weird to me.
I am not a touchy feely person. I am as modest as they come. So, the whole thing felt very much like being in a science fiction movie and all I kept thinking was, "This will only get more and more weird." I never felt comfortable feeding you in front of people, even with the ponchos, covers, etc. I HATED IT. Which then made any plans we would try to make revolve around when I would need to feed you. I spent many feedings in cars at restaurants or in random rooms at people's houses because I just wanted to be alone and to get it over with. The flip side of this was seeing moms who were breastfeeding in public and thinking, "Why can't I do that as easily as they could?" The whole movement where we should't judge moms for openly feeding in public and that they should be allowed to do so at any time and in any place is wonderful but the counterpart of that would be the moms that aren't as comfortable with it or the ones that couldn't/didn't want to breastfeed being made to feel ashamed that they weren't out in the park whipping out their breast for their baby while filing their taxes.
Lillie James, you'd be surprised by the audacity of some people to comment to your face on how you choose to raise your child. When you were about 5 months old (and 1 month into strictly formula) I was staying with your Nonna and Papaw because I was pretty sick and they offered to watch you while I rested and recovered. I finally broke down and went to see a doctor (some random NP that took walk-ins). She saw that I had a child and asked me if was breastfeeding. This in and of itself was a relevant and permissible question because it directly pertained to what she may or may not be prescribing to me. What transpired after I answered that I had quit a month prior was not acceptable or appropriate. This woman, who didn't know me from Adam, didn't know my story, didn't know my struggles, didn't know you, and most importantly DID NOT CARRY YOU for 9 months nor was her name on your birth certificate decided to say, "It's too bad you quit; you probably didn't need to" and then proceeded to give me advice for the next child that I would have. I wish I would have had the gumption I do know because I would have had a "come to Jesus" meeting with her about when to keep your mouth shut.
I am telling you all of this because one day, you might be a mom. One day, you might have someone shoving your boob into your baby's mouth and I want you to have the confidence to speak up for yourself. I want you to be able to, if it comes to it, make the choice to switch to formula with no apprehension and trust that you know what is best for you and your baby. I switched you to formula when you were 5 months old because I was getting clogged ducts right and left, pumping to try and relieve them, dipping my breast in saltwater to heal the cracked nipples, and I wasn't sleeping through the night which was wreaking havoc on my mental state. My life had become breastfeeding. I couldn't enjoy the sweet, tender moments with you to the fullest because breastfeeding was wearing me out mentally and physically. For my sanity, I made the decision to switch to formula.
Looking back it was the best decision I could have made for myself and for you. There's an analogy that is often used when dealing with overwhelmed mothers and it really helps to put things into perspective: Any time you fly and a flight attendant is making his/her spiel about what to do in the even of an emergency they always tell you if you are traveling with a child to put on your oxygen mask before you put on your child's. With your oxygen mask on, you will be way more equipped to take care of your child. It was the same thing for me and breastfeeding.
The decision to switch to formula from breastmilk was a lot like putting my oxygen mask on first. It gave me the freedom to allow your dad (or grandparents if they were around) to help me by doing some of the nighttime feedings which in turn meant getting a good night's sleep which was something that was in large part contributing to my postpartum depression. Getting to sleep through the night was a game changer because it meant I was rested up for the following day where you and I were together, alone, for 8 hours.
It also allowed me to feel more comfortable with leaving the house with you because I knew I could just pack some formula and a bottle of water and I could feed you anywhere we would be . . . EVEN OUT IN PUBLIC LIKE IN THE MIDDLE OF DINNER AT A RESTAURANT. Again, game changer. I was no longer feeling trapped and chained to when you would need to be breastfed. It opened the door for me to be able to enjoy my moments with you.
17 months have passed since making that decision and you know what? You are a very healthy, happy, and well-adjusted baby (almost toddler). You are very smart; you amaze your daddy and I every day. Your outgoing personality is impressive to an extreme introvert like myself. You've never met a stranger and you love to tell people what you are wearing. I took you to the store recently and you told a guy everything you were wearing. "Flowers, britches, boots, and socks."
You know all of your colors. You can count to 14 if you are focused. My favorite thing is how you like to start at 11 most of the time. You know the letter X and think most letters are B or Y. Sometimes you pick up something with words on it and "read" it. It usually goes a little something like this. "B, Y, E, X, D, B, 11, 12, 13, 14!!" Your vocabulary is very impressive and talking has always been something that you have just loved to do. It's crazy how many words a day you acquire. I just wish your dad was around more to teach you some of the more obscure words that I don't utilize daily.
My decision to not breastfeed you was my own, was one I stand by, and is one that shouldn't be anyone's business. All that to say, if you are a mom someday and you want to breastfeed, I will be your biggest advocate and if you want to switch to formula, I will support you in that endeavor. I will champion you every step of the way. I love you and am grateful that I get to spend every day watching you grow. You amaze me constantly.
XOXO,
Mommy
* @camwimberly1
