For The Sake of Sanity

There are few things in the world as terrifying as becoming a new mom. A lifetime of responsibilities placed on your shoulders only minutes after the most traumatic experience any human can have. It's baffling to me why women didn't just come together and say, ''we have the ability to bring life into the world, we're all awesome!'' No. No, women are caddy, so there are Breastfeeding Nazis and crunchy mamas who laugh in your face for doing what you feel is the right thing and vaccinating your child. Women are vicious. Some women will openly bash you for using formula, and at the same time, their child goes from breast to chili cheese fries. Veggies are best, too, Mom.

It is frustrating. Who are we to judge? I attempted to breastfeed my son. Two days after we left the hospital, he went 24 hours without pooping and had ulric acid in his diaper, which is a terrifying experience, consider the acid from his dehydrated urine turned red when mixed with the gel of the diaper, resembling blood. I broke down and fed formula until my milk came in the next day. That third day, however, we were returning to the hospital for a jaundice test. His lack of nutrition from the past days had skyrocketted his jaundice levels and we were in the hospital for the weekend. When my milk came in, I tried vigoriously to get my son to latch. My sister-in-law had one had on my breast and one on his head, my mother-in-law showed me how to stimulate milk production. The nurse was telling me breastfeeding, not breast milk from a bottle, was the only way.

I cried and cried trying to get him to latch. Finally, I said screw it. I pumped every 2-3 hours (5 hours at night) for almost 4 months. My pump had broken and so had my pocketbook. I was not working and my boyfriend was working part time. We tried vigoriously for 2 days to get him to latch, though of course, by now it was almost impossible. He pulled off after a few seconds, upset and annoyed it wasn't coming out fast enough. I cried for those 2 days, feeling guilty for giving in.

Now? Now I know better. Now I know I did the best that I could and next time, I will try again and do everything I can to breastfeed, just like I did this time. I did the best that I could for my son, and I will be damned if I let a woman talk down to me for using formula. Breast is best, but things happen that you will never, ever be able to control. This isn't the middle ages, there aren't a bevy of wet nurses available for hire. Now Connor is beyond happy and thriving. He has such a quirky personality and I love watching him bloom. Do I still get a twinge of sadness while preparing his bottle? Not even the slightest. I feel happy. I feel blessed that I was able to give my son what I did give him, and blessed we live in a age where I could feed him regardless of my production or his funky upper lip.

So maybe we should all just realize that shit happens that no one can control. New moms need support, not judgment and guilt. Especially when she may already be feeling that way about her newly inadequte body. For the sake of every new mom's sanity, let's celebrate the fact we accomplished a great feat, instead of hating the fact that we don't all do things the same.