Breastfeeding: the major motherhood issue

I've read tons of blog posts about breastfeeding.  It seems that everyone has a slightly different opinion on it, and it's this BIG DEAL to everyone who talks about it.  After reading so many different posts about it, I decided to share my own experiences with breastfeeding.  The more I've read about it, the more informed and decisive I feel, so maybe my experiences will help someone else in their own situation.

Obviously we know that breast milk is more beneficial to a baby's health than formula.  Anyone who says otherwise (and I have heard people say otherwise) is ill-informed.  No matter how talented scientists get, they just can't make a magical powder that does all of the same things and provides all of the same nutrients that a human body does.  Aren't our bodies amazing?!  So, breastfeeding is clearly the way to go, whenever possible.

But I think some people take that "whenever possible" to an extreme.  There seems to be this cultural stigma that if you give your kid formula, you are a bad mother.  I HATE that!  It's just not true.  I know plenty of great mothers that chose to formula-feed.  And I have watched many other mothers put themselves through hell because they are convinced that breastfeeding is the only option.  Yes, absolutely, mothers should do everything they can to breastfeed - get education, get help, work with a lactation consultant, whatever.  But when it becomes a torturous nightmare, using formula is not the end of the world. 

Both my brother and I were adopted at birth, so we were exclusively formula fed.  I grew up around people who often spoke ill of public breastfeeding, so I always thought that breastfeeding was weird, and I really didn't give it much thought at all until I was pregnant with The Bear.

When I was pregnant, I did my research and learned of the major advantages of breastfeeding, so naturally that became my goal.  I still felt a little weird about it - to me, breasts had only ever been sexual, which I later realized is a major flaw of our culture.  The idea of breastfeeding in public, let alone at home, terrified me.  I knew it was important, though, so when The Bear was born I dutifully did my best to figure out the whole process.  It was a challenge.  There were several days when I felt as though I were doing it all wrong: 

He hasn't pooped as many times as the book says he is supposed to poop!  He must not be eating enough!
He's been sleeping for 4 hours!  Should I wake him up and feed him or let him sleep?
I don't think I'm holding him right.
Why does he just go to sleep every time he starts eating?
Which side should I use?  Which side did I use last time?
WHY DOES THIS HURT SO BAD?

And of course, whenever I attempted to breastfeed in public, there were the voices in my head telling me that everyone around me was staring and judging.  I knew that it was ridiculous for me to feel anxiety about the simple and wonderful act of feeding my baby, but I just couldn't quite get over it.  No matter how modest I was about it, I felt awkward breastfeeding in front of other people.  I would often go hide in a bathroom or even in our car.

Usually I could solve this stress by reading articles and forum posts on kellymom and La Leche League.  And thankfully my sister-in-law had a nice breast pump to loan me, which helped a lot.  But when The Bear was two months old, my immune system decided to take a vacation.  I think this is partially due to the fact that I had stopped taking prenatal vitamins all together - I had no idea that I should keep taking vitamins even after the baby was born.  In retrospect, that seems so naive of me, but I just didn't know any better.  Anyway, I was seriously ill for four or five weeks.  First I had a terrible case of the flu - not just a cold, but the actual flu.  Then as soon as I was better from that, I caught a serious case of strep throat.  Then as soon as that was all better, I had a bad infection that affected my whole digestive system.  It. Was. Miserable.  I'm normally a pretty healthy person, but that was a really bad time.

And then we moved 2,500 miles across the country.

Throughout all of this, I did my best to continue breastfeeding, but there were days when it just didn't work.  In the words of a lovely blogger friend of mine, "I made the agonizing decision to start giving him formula. At first I felt like I was poisoning my child, but it helped him so much, and helped our relationship so much to let go of the torture that breastfeeding had become and just relax and feed my baby."

I continued to breastfeed as much as possible until The Bear was 10 months old, and then we gave it up for good.  I wasn't nearly as successful as I wanted to be, but my stress level was much better when I learned to let it go and relax.  I still felt some anxiety when other moms saw me bottle-feeding, worrying that they were judging me for not breastfeeding, but eventually I learned to stop caring about what other people thought, one way or the other.  I became confident in the fact that I am a good mom who cares about what's best for my baby, and as long as he's healthy, safe, and happy, other peoples' opinions don't really matter.

With baby #2 coming this summer, I'm hopeful that I'll be much more successful with breastfeeding this time around.  I'm resolved to stop worrying about breastfeeding in public, and I'm budgeting for some quality nursing clothes.  And I'm going to keep taking vitamins postpartum, so hopefully I'll stay healthy this time.  Breastfeeding IS important to me.  I'm not going to give up easily.  But if it doesn't work, it's not going to be the end of the world.