humble pie

I have a confession. I used to be the perfect mother. One of those moms. You know the ones. The know-it-alls who know how to do everything the right way. They stick up their noses at other moms who don't do it right. I was an expert! A parenting expert who just happened to have no children. I had it all figured out. Of course that was before I actually became a mother.

It is actually quite ridiculous now when I look back on it. Seriously, who does that?! This girl. That's who. Well little did I know just how much I was going to learn when I actually became a mother. That is when life handed me a nice big slice of humble pie and then left the rest of the pie with me just in case I needed more.

One of the many things I had a very strong opinion about was breastfeeding. I could never understand why someone would want to bottle-feed their baby formula of all things. Don't they realize how gross formula is? Don't they understand how convenient and inexpensive breastfeeding is? Don't they know how much healthier breast milk is? Don't they know how amazing it is that a mother's milk is tailored specifically and constantly changing to give the baby the exact nutrition it needs and is full of antibiotics? Don't they know all the amazing benefits it gives to both mom and baby? Don't they know?!?!? Why would someone choose formula over breastmilk?? It never made sense.

Well guess what, I am about a drop a bomb shell that will probably make many of my friends cringe at the very thought, but I don't care. I am a bottle-feeding mama! *gasp!* There I said it. I started exclusively formula feeding my baby since he was just a few weeks old and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I'll spare you a lot of the details, but my little guy came out wired just a little different than most babies. Stressed probably isn't the appropriate word... but for the sake of simplicity I'm just going to say that he was born stressed. He had a really rough birth and a horrible time eating right from the get-go. He cried a lot for a long time. I thought he was just hungry so I would try to nurse him, but he would just pull away and cry harder. It was a horrible cycle of him wanting me and then fighting me. He cried. I cried. It was awful. Was something wrong with him? Was something wrong with me? It must be me. So I tried to get help.

I tried to get a hold of some leaders from my local La Leche League. I tried calling one girl and she responded to my tearful phone call by telling me she was too busy because she was going to be on TV talking about breastfeeding and to try someone else. The next girl I called also referred me to someone else. I called one more girl. She proceeded to tell me that formula was medicine and it shouldn't be used more than medically necessary. Then she told me I should try a different hold and that my baby was probably just unhappy with how I held him. She went on and on nitpicking all the little things I must be doing wrong. After an hour or so of having to listen to her, she told me she would email me pictures of different holds to do. The phone call was useless and she never emailed me. Not that it would have helped seeing as how I already knew all the holds... but I digress.

Then I tried something else. I thought maybe if I go see someone who is a professional they can help me. Someone who actually makes a living off of helping women breastfeed their babies. So I went and saw a lactation consultant and she showed me all the same things that I had heard a billion times. Hold him like this... keep him awake by doing this... don't forget to pump pump pump! The appointment was terrible. Owen screamed the entire time. When we were weighing him he was frantic. Pulling his legs up to his chest, making his little body rigid, and just wailing. My lactation consultant responded to him by asking me, "does he cry like this ALL the time?!" She was a retired nurse and had many credentials so I figured that she would know if anything was out of the ordinary. The rest of the appointment was basically her trying to sell me a different breast pump and get me to buy all her nursing paraphernalia. I left feeling crappy, just as lost, and 150 bucks poorer.

A couple weeks went by and Owen was getting worse. He wouldn't nurse. So I used formula and I also pumped as much as I could. He was eating a little better, but he still wasn't the happy or calm baby I had always envisioned. When he wasn't asleep he was usually crying. The crying only got worse and soon he was just inconsolable whenever he was awake. Nothing helped him. He didn't want to be cuddled or put in a baby wrap or swaddled. Often he would just cry himself back to sleep while in my arms. He slept less and cried and screamed more. Then he started projectile vomiting. It was terrifying, confusing, and heartbreaking. I knew he was hurting and I knew I had to do something to fix it. This little precious person that the Lord had given me to care for needed me to make him feel better. I am his mommy and that is my job! I'm the one who is supposed to comfort him and make everything better. Mommies are supposed to have magic kisses that can fix any boo-boo. I felt like a failure. I just couldn't do it.

After a few visits to the doctor we decided it was most likely MSPI (milk soy protein intolerance) and acid reflux. I made the decision to switch him to a hypoallergenic formula as well and try and treat his reflux. It wasn't instantly fixed, but that is when things started to improve. It wasn't until later that I realized how obvious it was that he was in pain. I didn't even realize that babies could have those problems. I didn't even know those existed! And I can't believe no one saw it. My lactation consultant should have seen all the signs. She used to be a nurse for crying out loud. The rigid body language and the fact that he pulled his legs up and cried out in pain should have been a dead giveaway. I guess the argument can be made I should seen the signs, but I had no clue it wasn't normal. As stupid as that might sound I truly had no idea. I was so busy trying to succeed at breastfeeding and do what I was "supposed" to do in order to be a good mom. I was also sleep deprived and doing it all on my own. I was a complete zombie barely able to even feed myself. No one was able to come and help when he was born and poor Gary was working long days and then long nights trying to get our house ready to move in.

There have been many times I have received looks or comments from other moms when they see I bottle-feed. I have had people give me disgusted looks, snarky remarks, and even straight out question what I was doing. I had a complete stranger approach me and say, "are you at least pumping and giving him breastmilk?" When that happened I was floored and totally blindsided. I felt utterly exposed and like I needed to explain myself. Why can't someone just see a woman feeding her baby a bottle and appreciate how beautiful it is? It may not be breastfeeding, but guess what... she's feeding her baby! She's providing nourishment and making a precious connection.

I know the importance of breastfeeding, but it's not the end-all. Maybe that's offensive and shocking for some of you. For me and Owen, it was way more important for him to not be in pain and to be able to actually eat. His happiness and my sanity were the priority. I'm not sure if I have all the details correct from this and I hope it's alright that I share it, but my mother has an older brother who died when he was just a baby. From what I understand he had problems with eating and became very sick. I think about how blessed my little Owen is and how blessed I am! I will most likely never have to worry about having one of my babies die as a result of something so simple. We live in a time where babies can live and be healthy because mothers have options.

So listen up mamas! Next time you see a mother bottle-feeding or doing anything else that you feel is subpar, take a step back. You have no idea what her journey has been or what she is going through. And really it's none of your business. She is a good mom just trying to take care of here baby. Just smile at her. Chances are she needs it.