Breastfeeding vs. Formula

Anyone who's been reading this blog for the last [almost] two years or anyone who knows me, knows that breastfeeding was just not for me and Grant. I wanted to, I tried, I did it for a while...and I hated it. Every time. That is not an exaggeration by any stretch, it was awful. I can remember just one feeding that made me think "If it was like this everytime, I wouldn't mind this a bit". But, for the most part, when he was hungry I felt like I was raising a tiny piranha that was bent on my destruction. And I dreaded every feeding.

So, having said that I need to point out that I am not anti-breastfeeding. I think it's wonderful that there are mom's out there that are able to nurse their children and it works so well for them. And I know that every situation is different so it gives me hope that if we have another baby someday, I could try it again and it may work better for us.

What I am against is the constant guilt placed on mom's who can't or just simply decide not to breastfeed. It was the guilt placed on me starting in the hospital that kept me going when I so desperately wanted to quit. After trying and trying and failing and failing AND in my very emotional state feeling like a failure, I finally said "I really want to give him formula". I was told by a nurse that No, you don't want to do that because that's not what he needs. Instead of the rage that I feel now looking back at being treated like I couldn't make a decision, I felt guilty for wanting to quit. Guilty for feeling like I was doing wrong by my child. I cried so many times in the hospital out of sleep deprived frustration because it just wasn't working. Part of me wanted to leave the hospital so bad to get away from the opinionated, pushy nurses but part of me wanted to stay too. Because what happens when I get home and I have no one to ask for help and I can't do it?

Then I got home and it was working a tiny bit better because I was able to figure out what was better for me without the nurses hanging around telling me I was doing it wrong. But it was still terribly painful and every time I had the feeling of needing to quit. So the guilt continued. And I felt guilty confessing to my husband how badly I hated it and I felt like he'd be disappointed in me if I did. Like I was a bad mother. (For the record he never said or did anything that made me think he felt this way, it really was all in my guilt-ridden head.) I am no longer ashamed to say that I hated feeding my child. I even resented him some because of the pain. You should NEVER EVER feel that way. I was supposed to love holding him and spending that time with him because it was just for us. But I didn't. For how ever long he was attached to me, I knew it wasn't supposed to be that way [for us]. Afterwards when Grant would be all sleepy, I would cuddle with him, no longer in pain. I'd think about how great it was to be his Mama and then I'd feel bad for how much I hated nursing. And sometimes I'd cry some more.

I was told time and time again by our pediatrician that if we switched to formula full-time (because I did substitute it when I had to) then everything would be fine. She said the formula they make now is awesome and that she has plenty of patients who started on formula day one and that there is nothing wrong with it. My mother-in-law said the same thing, that she never nursed either of her children. And I knew it, I knew he would be fine if I switched...but there was guilt. And it was there when I finally did quit but I just couldn't do it anymore. I pumped for about two weeks after that but then quit that too. And you know what I realized? I loved feeding Grant a bottle. I loved his feedings from start to finished and the more I did that, the more that guilt subsided. My guilt ruined my 9 weeks of maternity leave and I so wish that things had been different. But you live an learn.

So, what's prompted this post? THIS ARTICLE about the mayor of NYC's breastfeeding iniaitive. No man should ever be allowed to implement something that they can never fully understand:

"Michael Bloomberg is now launching the Latch On NYC nursing iniaitive in early September, which will encourage hospitals to keep formula locked away so it will need to be signed out by nurses like medication.  Moms who want to formula-feed will still be able to, but they will first receive a talk outlining the benefits of nursing. The hope is that this voluntary program will promote breastfeeding as the default option and make it a bit harder to reach for formula."

Are you kidding me?? Mom's who choose to formula-feed have to sit through a talk? I can't even express how angry this makes me. And it makes me sad. Sad for any new mom giving birth in one of the NYC hospitals that are implementing this program. Because even if they go in there intending to breastfeed but maybe, like me, they just have a hard time and know it's not for them they will have so much guilt pressed on them by this program. It's disgusting to me that someone who can't ever know what he's doing to those women because he can't ever understand what an experience (either good or bad) like that feels like can put a program like this into effect. He shouldn't even be allowed to present to anyone in order get it underway. I guess I just need to be thankful that I don't live in NYC.

Self-Feeding: Step 2

At Grant's 15 month check-up on Tuesday (which I will update about if I ever get around to his 15 month post) the doctor asked how he's doing eating with utensils. I told her it's something we've been working on sporadically and that he was adjusting to it. She seemed encouraged by that answer.

The other night we all had breakfast for dinner. Grant had two pieces french toast (I have to say I make some pretty yummy french toast) and peaches which, of course, require nothing - for him - other than his hands. But he was still hungry. So I busted out some yogurt and one of his "learning" spoons. I helped him on the first couple spoonfuls and then I decided to see what he could do on his own. My big guy ate the rest of the container of yogurt all by himself! I even tried to take the spoon to help at the end but no dice. He cried and had a death grip on the spoon. If I was going to take the spoon, I think I would have had to just take his whole arm. Mr. Independent!

I'm not going to lie. It makes me a little sad when I realize how much Grant's growing up. But I also know that when he gets better at eating that way we can finally all sit at the table and eat dinner as a family (no more eating in shifts in front of the TV!). I'm really looking forward to family dinners.

Messy Marvin Has a New Talent

This past weekend was a really good weekend. We went shopping Saturday and, by accident, found Grant's Halloween costume then we went home and had a yummy homemade dinner. Sunday morning we got up and went for a family walk where Grant scored some playground time. We had breakfast together, ran more errands together and then had another yummy dinner. And any gaps in both days were filled with playtime with Grant. Like I said, a really good weekend.

But the highlight of Grant's weekend was probably his mid-day bath on Sunday. A bath (a.k.a. splashy playtime) in the middle of the day? What did he do to deserve that?

He had ravioli for lunch, that's what. I've seen him eat a lot of messy stuff. But I have never seen him this messy. He was coated with that sauce and in his impatience to get down from the highchair was getting even messier. After a general wipe-down he was still so orange from the sauce I decided nothing would clean him well enough but a bath. But I didn't get him in there before he decided to once again display his new talent for me. With his sauce covered finger.


Maybe there was one more noodle up there?



First Fruit...

Pears. And they didn't go over well. I thought it was because he'd had such a rough time with the shots. But maybe he didn't like them? That would be a first. He's eaten every vegetable we've given him and practically begged for more. Maybe he wasn't a fan of the sweetness? Possibly. But whatever it was, he didn't finish the container. Definitely a first. When we first started real food the doctor said when he turns his head away, he's done. He never did that until the pears.



The first bite always goes in easy.



Processing...



Break my heart! Look at that tear from crying
about the pain in his chubby little legs.



I don't know if I want any more.

At least I can still make him smile :)

Sleepy after such a hard day.



Mommy, I am so over these pears.

 As a side note, Grant seems to be on a hunger strike. Since his shots Thursday he's not been eating with as much enthusiasm as usual and even fights us when we give him his bottle. He's only finishing his morning bottles, the rest of the day we're lucky if he gets even 4-5 ounces in him. And last night he finished a container of vegetables (with coaxing) for the first time since Wednesday night (before the shots). Very strange and unGrant-like. We're hoping it's just a reaction to the shots or a phase that he's going through. I'm putting a call into the doctor soon but I keep asking myself...what can they do about it? How in the world do you make a 6 month old eat??

Cereal: Week 2

So here we are again with the rice cereal. I have to admit...I took a two day break from it. I just didn't have it in me. I tend to take it personally when Grant doesn't pick right up on something. I'm going to blame that on breastfeeding since that went so well. I am learning - slowly - never to expect anything to be easy. So when we tried cereal that first time and he hated it, it was funny. When we tried it the next time and he hated it I called myself a horrible mother (insert my comment "F*** it! I guess he'll just take a bottle for the rest of his life!"). I can be ever so slightly dramatic at times.

On Sunday, after my two day cereal hiatus, I had low expectations. I knew that as soon as the spoon touched Grant's lips he would scream as if I was jabbing his lips with a paring knife rather than the offending spoon. Well, there was minimal gagging and only a general fussiness. Hmm...maybe I don't suck at this. Yesterday, I had to make him laugh and then quickly shove the spoon in his mouth...but again, no screaming as if he's being torn limb from limb.

Today I got to play proud Mommy! Not only did he OPEN his mouth for the spoon but he reached out for it! And when the spoon was heading back to bowl for refills he made noises like he was trying to say "Gimme it!" Eureka! It was retarded how proud I was of him - and a little proud of myself and my perseverence. And can I just say thank God! I totally flashed forward to Grant at the age of 8 or so and a relative calling wanting to talk to Grant. I pictured myself having to tell this person "Oh, you can't talk to him just now, he's having a bottle." And there would be Grant, laying on the couch, drinking from a bottle roughly the size of a coffee thermos.



"Get in my belly!"

 

Spoon in the mouth - no tears!





I can wipe my own mouth, thank you very much.

 

He is not as coordinated with a spoon as he seemed to think he would be.





All gone!




Some of it even made it in his tummy (the sad face is because he wanted more)




A bottle followed the cereal and this is what followed the bottle. Which meant Mommy got to spend some quality time with Private Practice. Thanks Grant!



Grant + Cereal = Funny Faces!

Four month check up today! Grant has not gained as much weight as we thought he had. He's just under 13 pounds (was 10 pounds 5 oz. at his two month check up). I was surprised to hear that he's 25 inches long now! He's getting too big and it's not fair! But, as they say, life isn't fair. So, aside from measurements and vaccinations (always a treat) we were given the green light for solid foods! So - after a trip to the DMV to renew my expired license - I headed straight to the grocery store for the requisite rice cereal!


Please disregard the flashlight and other husband debris in the background.

It looks like instant mashed potato flakes:



Again with the husband debris...

Which you mix with formula until it's "soupy but not soupy". Oddly, I completely understood that.


Yummy...

 Getting ready for the big moment:

"Here comes the airplane..."

And...



No thanks Mommy.

Evidently the spoon explodes on impact because I don't
recall getting the spoon near his nose...or anywhere near
his hair but it ended up there too.

And it pretty much continued like this:

I think he was over it before we even started. But I had to keep trying! I was so excited and he just burst my bubble. It wasn't a good day to start something like this. After being messed with by the doctor and then his shots he was a cranky little man. But we shall try again tomorrow! And after we get him used to the cereal (the pediatrician said a week or so) we can start on stage one vegetables so stay tuned for our next feeding installments!

Saving the Ta-Tas...My Ta-Tas!

Yesterday I quit breast feeding. Hallelujah! Looking back, I should have stopped a while ago. The problem with quitting (besides my unwillingness to admit that I couldn't do it) was really the lactation chicks at the hopsital. They need a hobby that doesn't include other people's boobs. Seriously, they are dangerously close to needing posters at the hospital that say "You should breast feed. You're a bad mom if you don't. No, really, we will judge you." Or maybe a poster that says "You should breast feed until your child gets his own place. And he won't ever need therapy for it." I get that some people actually like to breast feed. You hear people call it magical, a wonderful bonding experience for you and your baby. I think those people should be tested for drugs. Monday night I was feeding my son, Grant, for the last time before bed. He feel asleep with my nipple in his mouth clamped between his little gums. I imagine that's what it would feel like if my nipple had been caught in a bear trap. Yet that was not what made me quit. That came yesterday morning...when it felt like Grant was chewing on the already sensitive part of my anatomy. He's 8 weeks old and has no teeth and yet it felt like all his grown up teeth came in while he was sleeping. At that moment my husband was coming in to say good-bye to us (he was off to work) and I looked at him and said "I'm done. I quit. I can't do it anymore." And this is why I love my husband...he said "Thank God!" So for almost two days I've been pumping and bottle feeding my little boy. And I love feeding him a bottle!

October is breast cancer awareness month!