I Will Be Brave If You Will Be Patient

Hello Dear Boobjuicers and Friends!

So I am working on a positively epic traveling post, which may be a brief series, but first I must post this confession. Which I am typing from humid, sunny, humid, busy, humid, interesting, humid Arlington, VA. Did I mention it's humid?

A mama posted a reaction to my rant post which gave me a moment of pause. She wrote something to the effect that she would hope that I would never judge a formula feeding mom. My knee jerk reflex was "of course not," but if I'm honest, it's more complex than that. First of all, and I think this is fairly common, but I find every day is an opportunity to learn not to judge. Especially of parenting. And I know from what I see in the world around me that I am not alone in this, on many different subjects - parenting, sexuality, religion, politics, fashion. (But really, mamas, the skinny jean is almost always a mistake!)

So there are a few things going on in my emotional response to formula feeding. One, I soooo love breastfeeding my kiddo, even despite the stress of pumping at work and the pain of learning how to do it and fighting thrush for ten effing months, that the thought of not having that relationship gives me an actual pang. So every formula encounter is a pang. Clearly I am too sensitive but that is hard wired (I asked a lot of mental health professionals and sensitivity is not learned, it's biological) and hence the pangs.

Second, I feel defensive about breastfeeding. Lots of people have been great, of course, but lots of people (and too many who are close to us and should at the very least be respectful enough to keep their freaking mouths shut) have made rude, judgmental comments. "That's crazy," comes to mind. So I think there's some part of me that wants to lash back. "No, feeding your kid rocket fuel is crazy." Which again is an unfair generalization. But judging back is an understandable, if perhaps ungracious, response. Which, again, I am trying to learn not to do.

Lastly, and this is a toughie, I feel bad for the kid. We know that breastfeeding is best for baby. Even the formula companies have fessed up that it's best in the first six months, and the medical community and major children's health organizations advocate at least a year, preferably two. It's hard sometimes in the face of all that evidence to wonder what is motivating the decision on the part of the moms who are choosing formula.

But therein lies the point. I don't know what is motivating that decision.

We have kind of crap maternity leave laws in this country, particularly in hourly labor forces but even doctors and teachers really struggle with getting support from their employers for gradual return to work, pumping breaks, etc. Even if it's on the books, try being the only nursing mom doc working in the emergency room. That's tough. And where there aren't a lot of moms or even women on the team, there may be (sometimes unconscious) pressure - if you go pump, you're more interested in being a mom than a (vocation). (Actually women who aren't parents are sometimes even harder than men to get to support the needs of a nursing mom, I have heard from other mamas. I'm sure speculating about that could be a whole other post.)

Nursing is hard to learn, and we don't have the tribal knowledge that we once did (here the tribe is mommies, not an ethnic group) to support the first days of nursing to make it easier. Pumping is a pain in the ass, as I have said before (and yes it is worth it). It's hard to go from a modern American lifestyle to having a mewling infant clinging to your boobs all day - I used to treasure a quick jaunt to the grocery store just to have 15 minutes where no one would touch me. And this from a total lactivist.

Maybe the family, pediatrician, or dad/co-parent isn't as dedicated and supportive. My hubby and I worked out a system where for the night feedings he would get up first, change Kiddo, and bring Kiddo to me, so I could stay in bed or go pee while they were getting ready. Not all dads are that supportive, or frankly can afford the sleep deprivation - not sure I want, say, a taxi driver running around as sleep deprived as my hubby, who is a stay-at-home dad and just had to be awake enough not to drop the kid in those early months.

And of course I've left out the really obvious ones like Mama has a disease that could be communicated via breastfeeding, or has advanced diabetes.

So this is what I try to tell myself when I feel that pang and internal scowl. It's none of my business, I don't know what's driving that decision, and breastfeeding is not the only way to be a good mom.

I will say this, though. We do a fairly crappy job of supporting breastfeeding in this country, especially considering our relative wealth. We need to make it possible to nurse or pump comfortably on demand anywhere in the country, and not in nasty train bathrooms or dusty corners of airports. We need to teach breastfeeding with the same passion and pervasiveness as the "Back to Sleep" campaign. We need to make sure all breadwinning mamas have the resources they need to pump at work without sacrificing income or career growth. And we need to get formula sales reps out of hospitals. Like, now. Nurses don't need sales reps to help moms choose a brand of formula.

This is particularly true in less affluent segments of the population and in communities of color. The former would benefit the most from the cost savings associated with "home grown" baby food and the associated reduction in medical costs, and the latter are in my opinion being shockingly underserved by the supposedly most advanced medical system in the world.

I firmly believe when we accomplish these goals we will get a lot more moms breastfeeding a lot longer, and accordingly an improvement in child health and long-term medical cost savings.

So I will focus my energy and attention on my lactivism instead of what is none of my business. I will continue to challenge my knee-jerk reactions and the judgments that pop into my head. And I think for right now that is probably the best I can do.

Pensively yours,
Suzi