A few more thoughts...

Regardless of what I write--a blog post, a newspaper article, even a to do list--I almost always think of something I forgot soon after finishing. So these are a few extra thoughts on what I posted yesterday about breastfeeding.

I mentioned that I'm fighting to breastfeed. There are a couple areas in my life right now where I feel like I'm fighting for things actually, but this is the one related to Little Man (that's our most used nickname for Silas. We also use Crazy Arms and occasionally Grunty McGrunterson or Grunt, for short.)

Back in the midst of the worst part of my postpartum period, my pastor sent me a couple of links to blogs on the Desiring God site. They were related to the so-called Mommy Wars that are rampant in our culture, i.e. constant comparisons and tearing down of one another. Think breastfeeding vs. formula, working mom vs. stay at home mom. They gave me a lot to think about, and I ended up downloading the DG app so I could keep up with more of the blog posts. Turns out, these two posts were part of a series, the final installment more for pregnant women.

In the post, the author wrote about how, in a very small way, there is a connection between a pregnant woman and Christ. Christ gave His body, His life, for us. Pregnant women give up their body for nine-ish months to allow another tiny human to invade and grow. While I am in no way saying the two are equal in magnitude, both are sacrifices. Christ made the Ultimate Sacrifice, and when you're pregnant you are making the big sacrifice of giving up your body. There are also several smaller sacrifices related to diet, lifestyle, etc.

That got me thinking about breastfeeding. I realized that I was still sacrificing my body in order to feed my child. Again, not on the same scale as Christ in any way, but it encouraged me to keep going. It felt good to realize I was making a sacrifice for my child at a time when I desperately wanted a sense of normalcy that just can't be established with a newborn.

So as nursing became even more difficult with setback after setback, I realized this whole thing was going to be a battle. And I decided I would fight that battle, one to two weeks at a time. Yes, ultimately I have a goal of how long I'd like to breastfeed, but it's too far in the future. To stay sane, I just look ahead one or two weeks.

Now, I definitely realize that formula is not the devil and a very good option for babies. I was formula-fed for crying out loud, and I think I turned out pretty well :) But I'm also pretty stubborn and want to give this my all before trying something else. The other night I was talking with Andrew about this whole thing and about how hard it is to keep fighting to feed Silas in this manner. I know I'm not the only mom who feels like her child's nutrition is dependent on her.

Andrew then lovingly reminded me that Little Man's survival is not dependent on me, that if I stop breastfeeding tomorrow, he won't starve to death. And deep down I do know this, I really do. But I think one reason I want to keep trying is because of the connection that has been created between us. I'm not talking about the lovey-dovey bond that some moms gush about when they think about how much they love breastfeeding their child. I didn't start out breastfeeding for the bond; I started because it's cheap. That's the honest truth.

The connection I'm thinking of has more to do with establishing a love for my child through the sacrifice. Contrary to what I thought would happen, I did not immediately fall in love with my child from the moment I saw him. And I know I'm not the only one. I loved him, yes, but I wasn't head over heels. I was probably too panicked to really get there early on. As many of my friends kept telling me, I was in survival mode those first few weeks.

I say contrary to what I thought, because if you know me well, you know that I love children and have spent a pretty good part of my life hanging out with them. I started babysitting at 12, changing diapers well before that, so on and so forth. Last year I even picked up a crying baby out of a buggy at Walmart because his mom and grandmom were dividing up the groceries and couldn't get to him. It just seemed natural that I would fall in love with my newborn baby and love being a mom.

That wasn't the case.

Two months in, I can now say that I am falling in love with my child, more so every day. And through so many things not related to nursing. But in working to overcome so many obstacles, I did create a connection with my baby that I think helped me in those days where I thought, "What the heck did I do? I had a baby?!"

One final thought: when I go play a tennis match in my head over whether I'm producing enough and if I don't pump now will that kill my supply, etc. etc., I try to remind myself that ultimately, God is in control. When someone tells me to try this pill or that method and stress seeps in, I have to remember that if I'm supposed to keep doing this, God will provide the supply...regardless of what I'm taking or if I remembered to do such and such.

And here ends my random thoughts I forgot to include yesterday. Congrats if you stuck with them to the end!