Breast is best?

A friend of mine made a comment on facebook that has me thinking about this a lot.

Breastfeeding.

Why is it such an emotional topic?

Before I ever had a kid (or was even pregnant), I had a cousin tell me, "Don't let anyone tell you that you have to breastfeed.  It's your choice and you do what you want."

I thought she was nuts.  Really.  I mean, I hadn't thought about it, and it seemed a little out of left field.  Besides which, my mom had breastfed me and everyone says it's amazing and natural and wonderful.  So, of course, when it came to it, I'd breastfeed.  I mean, I knew I'd be a good mom.  So, I'd breastfeed, right?

Then I was pregnant (and sick and miserable) for nine months.  And I was Super Fat.  Which has nothing to do with breastfeeding at all, except in that it goes to my mental state around the time Mr. Man decided to show up.   My ten pound son was born in July.

Suddenly my cousin's comment didn't seem so crazy.  My son had no interest in latching.  Right after he was born and I was told to feed, my arms were shaky.  I was exhausted.  I was miserable.  I hadn't eaten or peed on my own in 30 hours.  I felt like crap.  So when the nurse finally pried his mouth open and he closed it on me, imagine my surprise when...

IT FELT LIKE SOMEONE WAS PIERCING MY NIPPLE.  I am not kidding.  Piercing.  I don't like weird crap like that.  I thought putting a second hole in each ear at age 19 was pretty rowdy.

I looked down at that little chubby newborn and I hated him.  I was convinced something was wrong.  Nope, I was told, the latch was correct.  After a dozen people (family and nurses) told me that I just had to deal with the discomfort (DISCOMFORT?  Is having a toe amputated uncomfortable?  I had just pushed a baby out.  It tore the crap out of me and they sewed me up.  Wrong.  And breastfeeding hurt more than any of that. If it's "uncomfortable" I am a monkey's uncle.  And I'm a woman, so unlikely to be an Uncle.)

I digress.  I was told that I just needed to "deal with the discomfort" for a while and then it would get better.  Around four or five weeks.  The second and third weeks are apparently the worst.  So what was the first week, I thought?  Would he be pouring SALT on my amputated nub toe in weeks two and three?

I hated my kid.  I dreaded feeding him.  He wouldn't latch.  He'd cry (which stabbed my heart) and he would scream and he'd latch and then I'd cry.  And I'd scream.  And he'd rip my nipple.  And the whole cycle would resume.

Finally I started pumping.  That hurt like the dickens and I cracked and bled, but at least I didn't hate my baby. I hated the pump.  But he drank 40 ounces a day.  Even pumping every single two hours of the day and night I didn't make enough.

Insert long story about how he got thrush and I got a yeast infection, and oh yeah, something lovely called mastitis.  BLAH!  Finally at around 6 weeks, since I was making roughly 24 ounces a day, or about half of what he ate, I decided to try to get him to latch again.  That worked as well as a Miata offroading. My milk dried up in the process and I was so glad.  So happy to be able to say I tried and just failed.

That's when a new round hit.  The judgment.  It's around 6 weeks, after all, that you get out and about with your new baby.  I started to see friends and people at church, and people around town.  Call me crazy, but they were judging me.  I was feeding my baby formula.  I was a sucky mother.  Some people said things.  Mean, hurtful things.  Some people asked mean, invasive questions.  "OH, do you have inverted nipples?  No milk?  What's wrong with you?"  Other people blamed any issues I had with my son on my choice not to breastfeed.  "Oh, he has horrible colic?  That's because you are giving him formula."  "Oh, problems pooping?  That's because he's on formula."

Well dang.  I didn't know that you were a crappy mom if you didn't breastfeed.

Except I did know.  Deep down, I knew.  If you didn't breastfeed, you just weren't a good mom.  You didn't care enough about your kid.  You chose yourself over your baby.

That is all complete bull.

In case you didn't get that, by the way, THAT IS ALL COMPLETE BULL.

My son, Eli, who was only on breastmilk (and only part of the time) for six weeks, is incredibly smart.  He's healthy, beautiful and SO SO smart.

When my first daughter came, I nursed for two weeks.  I absolutely hated every single bloody, painful, awful minute of it.  My husband, THE DOCTOR (an MD), finally convinced me to stop.  She received formula every day since that first two weeks.

You know what?  She's absolutely freaking gorgeous.  She's three and she's smart, healthy and beautiful.  My kids are every single bit of everything they are supposed to be.  They are precocious, funny and sweet.

With my third, another girl, the pumping wasn't so awful (for the most part) and so I didn't try to breastfeed. I knew I'd hate the baby and have an awful experience so I skipped it.  And I pumped for 5 months.  Until I just didn't want to do it anymore.  Guess what?  She's 9 months and...

I CAN'T TELL A DANG BIT OF DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HER AND HER SIBLINGS.  THEY ARE ALL JUST PERFECT.

Most people would say I should have kept feeding her breastmilk through a year.

MOST PEOPLE ARE FULL OF CRAP.

If I have learned ONE thing since becoming a parent, it's this.  Throw out the rule books.  You do what you can.  You do your absolute best.  If something is making you miserable (as long as it's not, say, feeding your kid) then DON'T DO IT.  If you love to sleep in bed with your kid, DO IT.  If you love to keep them in their CRIB and out of your bed (that's  me), DO IT.  If you need to take a DVD player with you everywhere so you can plug them in while you shop, DO IT.  If you love cloth diapers, GREAT!  If you love disposables? GREAT!!

Being a good parent isn't about doing what's always best for the environment, or what your friends or people tell you is best.  It's doing what is safe and healthy for your kids (which FORMULA IS) and being happy with them.  Love them.  Do it your way.  And tell anyone who criticizes to do what they want with their kids and leave you the heck alone.