As a brand-new mom, I wanted to do breastfeeding for two reasons: it was a healthy choice and it was a cheap choice! After a few early challenges, Erik and I figured out how to get him fed without too much trouble and my career as a nursing mother was off. I was still a bit self-conscious about nursing in public when he was tiny, so he did get an occasional bottle, but they weren't received enthusiastically. In fact, his inconsistency with the bottle led to the grand pediatrician drama when he was two months old -- the doctor made me cry when I asked for help getting him to take a bottle more regularly, telling me babies have starved who didn't learn to take a bottle early enough. Fearing that I would starve my child if I wasn't home to feed him, I quit my job (and found a new pediatrician) and became a full-time stay-at-home mom. Erik nursed successfully till he was 14 months old.
When Anna arrived, nursing proved to be easier the second time around. Without the end of maternity leave lurking, there was less need to introduce a bottle and Anna was free to reject the few that came her way. It was easier for me to just feed her the old fashioned way, so that's what we did. I nursed her till she was 14 months old, too, just to be fair!
So, here I am with Baby #3. William was a nursing champion from his very first meal. Like his brother and sister, he tried a bottle a few times -- enough to prove he could drink from one if he wanted to, but he really doesn't want to. Generally, skipping the bottle routine is fine with me. I don't have to bother with the accouterments of bottle feeding. He gets all the healthy benefits of breastfeeding and I save no small chunk of change on formula. I get a great excuse to sit down several times each day and he gets some focused mom time. Everybody wins.
Here's the honest part, as much as I love breastfeeding my children, as the months proceed, my enthusiasm for it wanes. For three times now, I've managed to miss the window of opportunity when babies are supposed to learn to willingly take a bottle. That means I'm the mom the baby books warn you about -- the mom who is "tied down," who can't leave baby for more than a few hours. What's more, I usually nurse baby to sleep, which is a no-no to the "experts" who write the books. Believe me, in a noisy house like this, the little guy will have to learn to fall asleep from an awake state no matter what, but if he wants to doze off during a meal, I'm not going to interrupt his snoozing. That does means more crying at naps and at night time now as he tries to learn to settle himself down and I try to learn when to comfort him and when to back off.
I won't lie, part of the frustration is that the baby care burden is squarely on my shoulders. Either because I monopolize the child care (because it's my job and I do it best, right?) or because it's easier for everyone to leave the little people's needs to me, I'm the go-to-gal. I'm a nursing mom with a baby who doesn't want a bottle. That means no sick days, no days out on my own. It's all-baby, all the time. He's a cutie pie and all, but this is getting tiring. I would sure love a break.
The good news about doing this for the third time is that I can see the time for what it is. William is already six months old. He's eating solid food three times each day. As he eats more, he will need his nursing time less. Although the bottle irritates him, sippy cups intrigue him. Like his brother and sister, he's more interested in doing things the way the big people do. He's trying to pick up the cup on his own and once he does, he won't need me for liquid sustenance as much. He may still request "mom time" but once he's eating more traditional meals, I'll be better able to judge when he needs food and when a nice pat on the head and earplugs will do the trick.
I suppose the lesson in all this is that in some ways, parenthood never gets easier. It's easier as time goes on to understand what's going on in kidland, but it's still exhausting to ride out the challenging moments and get through the late, late nights. So, though I'm desperate for nights full of sleep, I know that the days are coming soon, when my littlest guy will be too big and too busy to need mom as much as he needs me now. Even if I'm up too late and breaking too many baby care rules, I have one thing going for me: nursing my babies will always be the one thing that I do best.
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| with William at two-days old |
