Hello Dear Boobjuicers and Friends!
This is a really good video about pumping technique, aimed at moms of preemies but useful for all who will be pumping at any time.
http://newborns.stanford.edu/Breastfeeding/MaxProduction.html
A couple of quibbles - the Hind milk is not "most nutritious," it's highest in fat. Which is very, very important, but so are the yummy vitamins in the foremilk. Also I don't know anyone who massaged their nipples while preparing to pump but if yours aren't hurting it's probably harmless and who knows, might help. Just be sure your hands are clean, which of course you did because you are pumping in the first place. Recall my ridiculously detailed description of one pumping session:
http://suzisboobjuice.blogspot.com/2009/12/bessies-dance.html
Totally concur that one should NOT feel compelled to up the suction on the pump to where it is uncomfortable. I had some not terribly helpful person in the hospital just automatically turn the pump to maximum. Ouch. Wanted to kick her. I think I used the pump on the lowest level much of the time, or close to it. As the manual says, turn it up to where it is slightly uncomfortable and then back it off until it is not uncomfortable. And as a side note there are all different kinds of folks in the Lactation Consultant world and if you aren't hitting it off with the one in your maternity ward or the one your girlfriend referred you to, by all means, find another. Some fancy mama/baby stores have one on staff and they are often very generous with their time on the phone, I have found. (Read: free advice! but to help them keep it free I advise buying something from their store when you have the chance.)
They have you massaging with the pump off after pumping - I'll try that next round should I be so blessed as to have another one. I tended to just leave the pump going while doing the hand expression at the end, out of sheer laziness, but who knows, maybe the rest is helpful. And of course if the shields aren't in your way you could turn off the pump but leave your band on to hold the bottles in place.
Remember you can single pump with a dual-electric pump by blocking one hole with the plug provided.
I think this video really calls attention to the importance of a good pumping band. I tried the one seen in the video and found it didn't stay up well - might work better on more buxom women. I liked this one:
http://www.amazon.com/Hands-Free-Breast-Pump-Halter/dp/B000HKYKT0/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&qid=1292837795&sr=8-11
Not the softest thing in the world but highly adjustable and stayed up well because of neck strap. Amazon has a new one up with different colors which looks softer but less adjustable - might find yourself buying a second size, which isn't the end of the world but we don't all have limitless funds to be throwing at pumping bras...
http://www.amazon.com/PumpEase-Hands-Free-Pumping-Support/dp/B0034ISZ5W/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1292837819&sr=8-4
If one of you has that one, let me know how you like it.
Alright, back to bed soon. Boy are my sleep patterns jacked up.
Much love,
Suzi
Monday, December 20, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Travel Stories, Part II
Hello Dear Boobjuicers and friends!
Here we have the next installment of Boobjuice On the Go, from Mama Emily. She kindly shared her story with me and has agreed to let me share it with you. I hope you find it helpful and encouraging as I have!
Much love,
Suzi
When Kiddo was three months old I went to a conference overnight for two nights. I shared a room with three other women and was so excited about the prospect of sleeping through the night that I didn't set an alarm or anything. First night I woke up sometime in a totally soaking wet bed and clothes and in some serious pain. I had to take a warm shower and sit in the corner with my pump for a long time to relieve myself. Next night I made sure I got up a couple of times to pump in the dark corner. Crept away from conference all day long to pump. I think at that point I had a little store at home for Kiddo to have when I was away...but he probably got a little formula too, which ended up happening at least once a day when I went back to work because it seemed like no matter how much I pumped at work, I was always one bottle short of what he wanted during the day.
I'm really hoping this next one I'm having nurses well! I kinda miss it...Kiddo stopped around 20 months...I was about 4 months preggo and it started to hurt like HELL to have him nurse. I couldn't hack it. He was only nursing to go to sleep then, and I explained what was going on and he was totally fine...I think he asked to nurse about two times after that but was never upset about it. Guess he was ready! He's totally obsessed with my gigantic preggo boobs right now though. He's constantly "massaging" them and sticking his hands down my shirt. We're talking a lot about how the next baby with be getting "Mommy's milk" to prepare him. I think he gets it, but I'm prepared for a *little* (I hope) jealousy.
Here we have the next installment of Boobjuice On the Go, from Mama Emily. She kindly shared her story with me and has agreed to let me share it with you. I hope you find it helpful and encouraging as I have!
Much love,
Suzi
When Kiddo was three months old I went to a conference overnight for two nights. I shared a room with three other women and was so excited about the prospect of sleeping through the night that I didn't set an alarm or anything. First night I woke up sometime in a totally soaking wet bed and clothes and in some serious pain. I had to take a warm shower and sit in the corner with my pump for a long time to relieve myself. Next night I made sure I got up a couple of times to pump in the dark corner. Crept away from conference all day long to pump. I think at that point I had a little store at home for Kiddo to have when I was away...but he probably got a little formula too, which ended up happening at least once a day when I went back to work because it seemed like no matter how much I pumped at work, I was always one bottle short of what he wanted during the day.
I'm really hoping this next one I'm having nurses well! I kinda miss it...Kiddo stopped around 20 months...I was about 4 months preggo and it started to hurt like HELL to have him nurse. I couldn't hack it. He was only nursing to go to sleep then, and I explained what was going on and he was totally fine...I think he asked to nurse about two times after that but was never upset about it. Guess he was ready! He's totally obsessed with my gigantic preggo boobs right now though. He's constantly "massaging" them and sticking his hands down my shirt. We're talking a lot about how the next baby with be getting "Mommy's milk" to prepare him. I think he gets it, but I'm prepared for a *little* (I hope) jealousy.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Solo Mama Week - Holy Tired, Batman!
Hello Dear Boobjuicers and Friends!
I write to you from lovely, snowy Indiana! It's really coming down outside, but luckily my mother-in-law likes to keep the kitchen stocked as though she will be hosting a dinner for 25 five nights in a row at all times. Kiddo, like the California-born child he is, did not care for the snow, and demanded "Up!" every time we stood him on the lawn, despite being wrapped in coat, gloves, scarf, mittens, and awesome waterproof boots. Ah well, our fault for making him a West Coast boy.
We are visiting to help out and cheer up Grandpa, who had half his liver and all of gall bladder removed as part of his battle with metastatic colon cancer. Grandpa is recovering nicely. Hubby came out before and during the surgery for over a week, and I used up some of my use-or-lose leave to stay home with the kiddo.
Holy crap is that hard work.
Which is weird because often I was just sitting or standing still, watching Kiddo do something totally harmless like play with his toys or torture the cat. But one isn't totally relaxed unless Kiddo is asleep, and even then one is as likely as not to be madly doing dishes, cleaning up, moving the laundry along, or trying to (gasp!) sit still in front of the computer for five minutes trying to communicate with some grown-ups.
I got lonely and cranky on day 2, because I had set up tons of playdates and activities, but starting on day 3. That's how I kept myself at all sane - we went out a LOT. Just chasing Kiddo around the apartment seemed like the surest way to go stark raving mad. I even went to a drop-in mama group in hippier-than-thou Northeast Portland, which was a nice break. Turned into snack potluck which was funny - all the mamas had brought snacks, and all the kiddos wanted to try everyone else's snacks. Worked well. Kiddo got VERY used to being stuffed into his carseat by the end of the week! And we made a new friend, out in an ex-burb of PDX with lots of trees and mountains and even a creek in her neighborhood. Plus she made totally killer scones, with tons of butter and whole cream. This is my kind of lady. Her four year old did a great job sharing his toys with my Kiddo, whom I basically just watched running from the play schoolbus (about half the size of my couch) to the Elmo Kitchen (which is freaking hilarious and slightly scary) for three hours. Clearly playdates are the key to the sanity of the stay-at-home parent. That and prioritizing - I decided I would not cook all week. I made lentils the first Sunday but after that it was all packaged tortellini, takeout, and similar fare.
On Wednesday I had a meltdown and yelled at Kiddo. I immediately realized it and apologized, but he had this shocked look on his face that just broke my heart. At nap time I called Hubby and whined and whined about what a wimp I was. Not slightly hard on myself, at all. Nope.
I very much enjoyed all the time with Kiddo, and I'm not sure I have ever been so happy to see my husband as when we picked him up at the airport on Sunday. I refused to be even slightly helpful in the kid department for like the next 24 hours, I think. Everyone find a solo parent this week and give them a huge hug and a standing ovation. PHEW!
We also started our cloth diaper experiment while Daddy was away, which is going really well. Up to this point they just sounded like so much more trouble than disposable, despite all these mamas insisting that no they were not. Well, they clearly are more work than just opening a sack of disposables, but oddly they don't feel like more trouble. I sort of like doing laundry, which probably helps, but it also just becomes a very easy routine. Even dumping the solids in the toilet doesn't seem like that big of a deal - before it was all, "Eeeeew, carry the poopy diaper to the bathroom???" but you know, it's also, "EEEeeeew, a pail full of poo sitting in Kiddo's room?" and after one or two of these transits it just doesn't seem like a big deal. I think I want one of those toilet sprayers for getting the last bit off the diaper so I don't have to go at it with toilet paper, but still, it seems pretty easy. Plus Kiddo clearly likes them better, and his skin is happier. Which makes it all worth it.
So now Hubby and Kiddo are napping, I am baking oatmeal raisin chocolate chip hazelnut cookies (supposed to be walnuts, oops), and life is cozy and pleasant. I do advise against getting colon cancer though. It's a bitch.
Be well all! More travel stories soon!
Much love,
Suzi
I write to you from lovely, snowy Indiana! It's really coming down outside, but luckily my mother-in-law likes to keep the kitchen stocked as though she will be hosting a dinner for 25 five nights in a row at all times. Kiddo, like the California-born child he is, did not care for the snow, and demanded "Up!" every time we stood him on the lawn, despite being wrapped in coat, gloves, scarf, mittens, and awesome waterproof boots. Ah well, our fault for making him a West Coast boy.
We are visiting to help out and cheer up Grandpa, who had half his liver and all of gall bladder removed as part of his battle with metastatic colon cancer. Grandpa is recovering nicely. Hubby came out before and during the surgery for over a week, and I used up some of my use-or-lose leave to stay home with the kiddo.
Holy crap is that hard work.
Which is weird because often I was just sitting or standing still, watching Kiddo do something totally harmless like play with his toys or torture the cat. But one isn't totally relaxed unless Kiddo is asleep, and even then one is as likely as not to be madly doing dishes, cleaning up, moving the laundry along, or trying to (gasp!) sit still in front of the computer for five minutes trying to communicate with some grown-ups.
I got lonely and cranky on day 2, because I had set up tons of playdates and activities, but starting on day 3. That's how I kept myself at all sane - we went out a LOT. Just chasing Kiddo around the apartment seemed like the surest way to go stark raving mad. I even went to a drop-in mama group in hippier-than-thou Northeast Portland, which was a nice break. Turned into snack potluck which was funny - all the mamas had brought snacks, and all the kiddos wanted to try everyone else's snacks. Worked well. Kiddo got VERY used to being stuffed into his carseat by the end of the week! And we made a new friend, out in an ex-burb of PDX with lots of trees and mountains and even a creek in her neighborhood. Plus she made totally killer scones, with tons of butter and whole cream. This is my kind of lady. Her four year old did a great job sharing his toys with my Kiddo, whom I basically just watched running from the play schoolbus (about half the size of my couch) to the Elmo Kitchen (which is freaking hilarious and slightly scary) for three hours. Clearly playdates are the key to the sanity of the stay-at-home parent. That and prioritizing - I decided I would not cook all week. I made lentils the first Sunday but after that it was all packaged tortellini, takeout, and similar fare.
On Wednesday I had a meltdown and yelled at Kiddo. I immediately realized it and apologized, but he had this shocked look on his face that just broke my heart. At nap time I called Hubby and whined and whined about what a wimp I was. Not slightly hard on myself, at all. Nope.
I very much enjoyed all the time with Kiddo, and I'm not sure I have ever been so happy to see my husband as when we picked him up at the airport on Sunday. I refused to be even slightly helpful in the kid department for like the next 24 hours, I think. Everyone find a solo parent this week and give them a huge hug and a standing ovation. PHEW!
We also started our cloth diaper experiment while Daddy was away, which is going really well. Up to this point they just sounded like so much more trouble than disposable, despite all these mamas insisting that no they were not. Well, they clearly are more work than just opening a sack of disposables, but oddly they don't feel like more trouble. I sort of like doing laundry, which probably helps, but it also just becomes a very easy routine. Even dumping the solids in the toilet doesn't seem like that big of a deal - before it was all, "Eeeeew, carry the poopy diaper to the bathroom???" but you know, it's also, "EEEeeeew, a pail full of poo sitting in Kiddo's room?" and after one or two of these transits it just doesn't seem like a big deal. I think I want one of those toilet sprayers for getting the last bit off the diaper so I don't have to go at it with toilet paper, but still, it seems pretty easy. Plus Kiddo clearly likes them better, and his skin is happier. Which makes it all worth it.
So now Hubby and Kiddo are napping, I am baking oatmeal raisin chocolate chip hazelnut cookies (supposed to be walnuts, oops), and life is cozy and pleasant. I do advise against getting colon cancer though. It's a bitch.
Be well all! More travel stories soon!
Much love,
Suzi
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wanderboobs, Part One
Hello Dear Boobjuicers and Friends!
A very happy Thanksgiving to you all, wherever you may be. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday - all of the food and none of the shopping! Plus I like to try to maintain a grateful disposition, and this is one day of the year where my sappiness is seasonally appropriate. So please indulge me as I say that today I am immensely grateful for my fantastic husband and beautiful, sweet, healthy son, and for the amazing gift which is the me that grew that little guy and nourished him for 21 months. Not that I'm not still nourishing him, just, you know, less directly. And as we all know because the news folks remind us eight jillion times a year, Thanksgiving is the busiest travel holiday of the year, and therefore seems like a great time to begin the long-awaited Travel Stories.
A lot of breadwinning, boobjuicing mamas have to travel for their jobs, whether all the time in a sales gig or occasionally to conferences. There are a lot of ways to handle this - as I have chronicled before, my choice was possibly the most expensive and least practical, but suited me best, which was to bring Kiddo and sometimes Hubby with me all the time. This is not tenable for most families, even if you have friends (read: free babysitting) all over the country. Frankly it wasn't particularly tenable for us either, financially speaking, but for one year we made it work - let's just say this wasn't the year we got that housing down payment up towards the 20% level. But emotionally, for me, it was the right thing to do.
It was also the easiest in terms of breastfeeding, although of course there are the same timing challenges that one always experiences when balancing breadwinning with boobjuicing. I think the funniest example, which did not feel funny at the time, was when I was first trying to convince my current company that I was all that and a bag of chips and they should hire me and move me to Oregon. (Did I mention I courted this company for 18 months before I got an offer, and that Kiddo was born in the midst of that? Do not let some naysayer tell you that you cannot switch jobs while having kids).
We all three flew to Oregon when Kiddo was about three months old. I had a lunch arranged with an acquaintance at the firm, and then some informational interviews with some of his colleagues. We had flown in the previous day, or maybe two days ahead, but I know I didn't have time to accumulate more than one bottle of breastmilk in the fridge of my sister's apartment, where we were staying. So Hubby and Brother-in-law (Uncle E) drove me to the lunch meeting early, where we all sat in the guest parking lot and I nursed kiddo right before the lunch, praying that he would decide he was done before I was either late or had to oust him. Somehow that worked without him screaming his head off. I met my now colleague for lunch, while Hubby and Uncle E went to another nearby eatery. We met back up an hour and a half later in the same parking lot, where I had like 27 minutes before my informational interviews started. I nursed Kiddo again, the whole time praying in gratitude that he wanted to nurse, rather than sleep through my break and wake up hungry 60 seconds before I had to get out of the car. Of course I could have spent this time pumping, but I wasn't very familiar with pumping yet so it seemed like the only option to nurse.
Then came the tough part. I had an unknown amount of time, possibly three hours, before I could leave and go nurse Kiddo again, and Hubby had one not particularly large bottle of milk in the fridge. If he had spilled it I was sure the entire universe would implode, starting with a small black hole in the middle of my chest. (This is absurd of course, he would have soothed the baby until I showed up, but it didn't seem that way.) As it turns out I was only in meetings for two hours, so that helped. I called and Hubby had used the bottle and wanted me home ASAP but Kiddo was sleeping, and of course coming to get me in the rental car meant maybe waking up the baby. So Uncle E, sweet darling that he is, got a zipcar and came to whisk me and the girls home to our waiting Kiddo, who survived the whole ordeal unscathed.
Phew!
I can't say I *recommend* job hunting with a tiny tike, but we don't always have a choice, or want to wait another year to get out of a gig. So I offer this example of how traveling (in this case as part of a job search) can indeed work out.
Let me say for the umpteenth time that my method was best for me, but was expensive and elaborate. Please do not feel you have to do it my way or not travel until you and your little one are done with the boobjuicing. I have collected more stories from other mamas who did it differently than I did and will start sharing those soon!
Happy Thanksgiving, happy boobjuicing, and safe travels to all!
Much love,
Suzi
A very happy Thanksgiving to you all, wherever you may be. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday - all of the food and none of the shopping! Plus I like to try to maintain a grateful disposition, and this is one day of the year where my sappiness is seasonally appropriate. So please indulge me as I say that today I am immensely grateful for my fantastic husband and beautiful, sweet, healthy son, and for the amazing gift which is the me that grew that little guy and nourished him for 21 months. Not that I'm not still nourishing him, just, you know, less directly. And as we all know because the news folks remind us eight jillion times a year, Thanksgiving is the busiest travel holiday of the year, and therefore seems like a great time to begin the long-awaited Travel Stories.
A lot of breadwinning, boobjuicing mamas have to travel for their jobs, whether all the time in a sales gig or occasionally to conferences. There are a lot of ways to handle this - as I have chronicled before, my choice was possibly the most expensive and least practical, but suited me best, which was to bring Kiddo and sometimes Hubby with me all the time. This is not tenable for most families, even if you have friends (read: free babysitting) all over the country. Frankly it wasn't particularly tenable for us either, financially speaking, but for one year we made it work - let's just say this wasn't the year we got that housing down payment up towards the 20% level. But emotionally, for me, it was the right thing to do.
It was also the easiest in terms of breastfeeding, although of course there are the same timing challenges that one always experiences when balancing breadwinning with boobjuicing. I think the funniest example, which did not feel funny at the time, was when I was first trying to convince my current company that I was all that and a bag of chips and they should hire me and move me to Oregon. (Did I mention I courted this company for 18 months before I got an offer, and that Kiddo was born in the midst of that? Do not let some naysayer tell you that you cannot switch jobs while having kids).
We all three flew to Oregon when Kiddo was about three months old. I had a lunch arranged with an acquaintance at the firm, and then some informational interviews with some of his colleagues. We had flown in the previous day, or maybe two days ahead, but I know I didn't have time to accumulate more than one bottle of breastmilk in the fridge of my sister's apartment, where we were staying. So Hubby and Brother-in-law (Uncle E) drove me to the lunch meeting early, where we all sat in the guest parking lot and I nursed kiddo right before the lunch, praying that he would decide he was done before I was either late or had to oust him. Somehow that worked without him screaming his head off. I met my now colleague for lunch, while Hubby and Uncle E went to another nearby eatery. We met back up an hour and a half later in the same parking lot, where I had like 27 minutes before my informational interviews started. I nursed Kiddo again, the whole time praying in gratitude that he wanted to nurse, rather than sleep through my break and wake up hungry 60 seconds before I had to get out of the car. Of course I could have spent this time pumping, but I wasn't very familiar with pumping yet so it seemed like the only option to nurse.
Then came the tough part. I had an unknown amount of time, possibly three hours, before I could leave and go nurse Kiddo again, and Hubby had one not particularly large bottle of milk in the fridge. If he had spilled it I was sure the entire universe would implode, starting with a small black hole in the middle of my chest. (This is absurd of course, he would have soothed the baby until I showed up, but it didn't seem that way.) As it turns out I was only in meetings for two hours, so that helped. I called and Hubby had used the bottle and wanted me home ASAP but Kiddo was sleeping, and of course coming to get me in the rental car meant maybe waking up the baby. So Uncle E, sweet darling that he is, got a zipcar and came to whisk me and the girls home to our waiting Kiddo, who survived the whole ordeal unscathed.
Phew!
I can't say I *recommend* job hunting with a tiny tike, but we don't always have a choice, or want to wait another year to get out of a gig. So I offer this example of how traveling (in this case as part of a job search) can indeed work out.
Let me say for the umpteenth time that my method was best for me, but was expensive and elaborate. Please do not feel you have to do it my way or not travel until you and your little one are done with the boobjuicing. I have collected more stories from other mamas who did it differently than I did and will start sharing those soon!
Happy Thanksgiving, happy boobjuicing, and safe travels to all!
Much love,
Suzi
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Who Designed this Stupid Urethra Anyway!!!
Dear Boobjuicers and Friends,
ARGH! Okay I know I promised more boobjuice this time but I must rant. What the everloving crap is up here. I am a pretty healthy specimen and I am following all the known rules of female self care and I have ANOTHER stupid urinary tract infection. For crap sake. How did the species reproduce before antibiotics? Presumably petri dishes like me just died of kidney infections (which is what happens if you let a UTI run rampant, not that anyone would these days since they freaking HURT and are easy to treat) and did NOT in fact successfully reproduce. Further proof that I am a mutant. And the whole yeast in the breasts thing is poorly designed too, although I suspect that it was less common before my aforementioned, beloved antibiotics. Grumble.
So other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play? Well, a lot of mamas look forward to having their bodies to themselves again after their little ones wean. Once Kiddo got down to one nursing a day, except for being afraid to miss a day (which was probably not a big deal but felt like it), it was pretty easy, and I enjoyed the nursing, and didn't mind sharing. It's not as hard as when you feel like you can't get three minutes alone to pee with both hands free, let alone take a shower. Or when you're eight months pregnant and battling aches, and heartburn, and having someone jumping up and down on your bladder. So now that he's done, and we're not quite ready for Blessing #2 (I'm thinking January...), it's kind of lonely in here all by myself! How silly is that. And mamas who haven't been able to spend 24 hours alone for years are probably rolling their eyes right now. Can't blame ya. But there it is.
Well, make hay while the sun shines, after all. So I went to Nice Boss, and explained, trying very hard to avoid Too Much Information Syndrome (Nice Boss is far too polite to tell me if I were to subject him to TMI but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen I'm sure), that we have a "window of opportunity" at the moment where it's going to be very easy for me to travel, and then the window will close, in a few months, or perhaps later. And therefore what travel would he like me to crank out while we have the chance? Which is how I ended up with a trip to Anchorage for a December 21 meeting. That's right. I'm going to Alaska on the shortest day of the year. Pretty hilarious. Unfortunately I will be in that fine state for less than 24 hours, but if I'm lucky I might see the Aurora Borealis. And I won serious points from our vendor for being willing to visit in December. Besides it doesn't feel like that big of a deal - I went to college in Minnesota, after all, and my meeting is like five miles from the airport. So I get to win points for doing something which strikes me as pretty easy.
I'm also, as I think I mentioned, taking advantage of this window to do all the Scary Research and other planning for Blessing #2 so that I can relax and enjoy my pregnancy when (hopefully) it starts. I have the ICAN website pulled up. I haven't clicked on any of the links yet. Too scary looking. Medical studies are so varied, and technical, and can be quite slanted, or just poorly executed. And it's that one in a million stories where the poor mama actually *does* spontaneously combust in a pool of despair on the hospital floor that seems to stick in my head, instead of those other 999,999 women who just had a few stitches afterwards. Bleh. There's this whole, "you need to arm yourself with information in advance" ethic, which is very sound advice, but I am feeling paralyzed, because I know I can't possibly learn all of it and besides the idea that I'm going to remember any of it when I'm in labor is sort of ludicrous. I'm reading Ina Mae's Guide to Childbirth, which so far is very non-scary.
On the more fun side, I'm also thinking, what gear and fun stuff do I want that I liked or wished I had for Kiddo? Doula, natch. I want a fancy pants recliner to nurse in. That may or may not happen given that there is no where in this cute little riverfront apartment to *put* such an item, except in Kiddo's room, and I'm not going to make him deal with a newborn in his room until hypothetical Blessing #2 is at least 6 months old. Plus I think this time I want to keep the baby with me much longer. We moved Kiddo into his own room at four or five months. It hurt me way more than him, and it was impractical, and when I finally worked up the courage to say "screw this 'sleep training' bullpoo," it just meant that much further to walk to console the little guy when he needed it. So we'll have to see on the recliner, anyway. Bassinet or cosleeper of some sort. Our bed is too small and high-up to put the baby in it with me, I think, except while actually nursing. But within arm's reach sounds like totally the way to go. I may try cloth diapers this time around. Or I might get some that are supposed to fit all sizes of kiddo now to try on my first little dude, and see how we like them. And I want a nursing bracelet so I'm not constantly taking notes about which boob was when. And I only have like four kid carriers, so it seems high time to try a couple more... I have a sling, and an ergo if my mama friend is done borrowing it by then (and if not I have an excuse to buy one in a color I like better!), and a sort of crappy Jeep branded one by Kolkraft which is a baby bjorn knockoff, and a moby wrap. Moby wrap is great for tiny ones and until they can squirm around, but doesn't feel secure enough to me for out of the house. Sling is well loved by many mamas but I need someone to teach me how to nurse in it. Mama RR tried, bless her, but I think I'm going to need like a hands on tutorial... Better start saving now!
Back to tending my upset tummy (mmmm... Cipro... another advantage to weaning I guess, that the Cipro is okay for now) and lying on the couch staring out at the Wintry Mix.
Much love,
Suzi
ARGH! Okay I know I promised more boobjuice this time but I must rant. What the everloving crap is up here. I am a pretty healthy specimen and I am following all the known rules of female self care and I have ANOTHER stupid urinary tract infection. For crap sake. How did the species reproduce before antibiotics? Presumably petri dishes like me just died of kidney infections (which is what happens if you let a UTI run rampant, not that anyone would these days since they freaking HURT and are easy to treat) and did NOT in fact successfully reproduce. Further proof that I am a mutant. And the whole yeast in the breasts thing is poorly designed too, although I suspect that it was less common before my aforementioned, beloved antibiotics. Grumble.
So other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play? Well, a lot of mamas look forward to having their bodies to themselves again after their little ones wean. Once Kiddo got down to one nursing a day, except for being afraid to miss a day (which was probably not a big deal but felt like it), it was pretty easy, and I enjoyed the nursing, and didn't mind sharing. It's not as hard as when you feel like you can't get three minutes alone to pee with both hands free, let alone take a shower. Or when you're eight months pregnant and battling aches, and heartburn, and having someone jumping up and down on your bladder. So now that he's done, and we're not quite ready for Blessing #2 (I'm thinking January...), it's kind of lonely in here all by myself! How silly is that. And mamas who haven't been able to spend 24 hours alone for years are probably rolling their eyes right now. Can't blame ya. But there it is.
Well, make hay while the sun shines, after all. So I went to Nice Boss, and explained, trying very hard to avoid Too Much Information Syndrome (Nice Boss is far too polite to tell me if I were to subject him to TMI but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen I'm sure), that we have a "window of opportunity" at the moment where it's going to be very easy for me to travel, and then the window will close, in a few months, or perhaps later. And therefore what travel would he like me to crank out while we have the chance? Which is how I ended up with a trip to Anchorage for a December 21 meeting. That's right. I'm going to Alaska on the shortest day of the year. Pretty hilarious. Unfortunately I will be in that fine state for less than 24 hours, but if I'm lucky I might see the Aurora Borealis. And I won serious points from our vendor for being willing to visit in December. Besides it doesn't feel like that big of a deal - I went to college in Minnesota, after all, and my meeting is like five miles from the airport. So I get to win points for doing something which strikes me as pretty easy.
I'm also, as I think I mentioned, taking advantage of this window to do all the Scary Research and other planning for Blessing #2 so that I can relax and enjoy my pregnancy when (hopefully) it starts. I have the ICAN website pulled up. I haven't clicked on any of the links yet. Too scary looking. Medical studies are so varied, and technical, and can be quite slanted, or just poorly executed. And it's that one in a million stories where the poor mama actually *does* spontaneously combust in a pool of despair on the hospital floor that seems to stick in my head, instead of those other 999,999 women who just had a few stitches afterwards. Bleh. There's this whole, "you need to arm yourself with information in advance" ethic, which is very sound advice, but I am feeling paralyzed, because I know I can't possibly learn all of it and besides the idea that I'm going to remember any of it when I'm in labor is sort of ludicrous. I'm reading Ina Mae's Guide to Childbirth, which so far is very non-scary.
On the more fun side, I'm also thinking, what gear and fun stuff do I want that I liked or wished I had for Kiddo? Doula, natch. I want a fancy pants recliner to nurse in. That may or may not happen given that there is no where in this cute little riverfront apartment to *put* such an item, except in Kiddo's room, and I'm not going to make him deal with a newborn in his room until hypothetical Blessing #2 is at least 6 months old. Plus I think this time I want to keep the baby with me much longer. We moved Kiddo into his own room at four or five months. It hurt me way more than him, and it was impractical, and when I finally worked up the courage to say "screw this 'sleep training' bullpoo," it just meant that much further to walk to console the little guy when he needed it. So we'll have to see on the recliner, anyway. Bassinet or cosleeper of some sort. Our bed is too small and high-up to put the baby in it with me, I think, except while actually nursing. But within arm's reach sounds like totally the way to go. I may try cloth diapers this time around. Or I might get some that are supposed to fit all sizes of kiddo now to try on my first little dude, and see how we like them. And I want a nursing bracelet so I'm not constantly taking notes about which boob was when. And I only have like four kid carriers, so it seems high time to try a couple more... I have a sling, and an ergo if my mama friend is done borrowing it by then (and if not I have an excuse to buy one in a color I like better!), and a sort of crappy Jeep branded one by Kolkraft which is a baby bjorn knockoff, and a moby wrap. Moby wrap is great for tiny ones and until they can squirm around, but doesn't feel secure enough to me for out of the house. Sling is well loved by many mamas but I need someone to teach me how to nurse in it. Mama RR tried, bless her, but I think I'm going to need like a hands on tutorial... Better start saving now!
Back to tending my upset tummy (mmmm... Cipro... another advantage to weaning I guess, that the Cipro is okay for now) and lying on the couch staring out at the Wintry Mix.
Much love,
Suzi
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Weaning, Whining, and Who's Next
Dear Boobjuicers and Friends,
No, I'm not pregnant. But the twinkle in my eye is getting mighty bright.
I am quite determined to do everything I can to enable a hypothetical second kiddo to come out the main exit, rather than my poor little dude who had to come out the emergency escape hatch in a babyectomy (more commonly known as a Cesarean Section - was Caesar actually born this way? 'cause I'm pretty sure that would mean mama Caesar never got to meet him.) So today I visited a waterbirth center just a mile from my home here in Beervana. (No I'm not drinking beer.) I feel very encouraged about VBAC, and the center was lovely, and I have a feeling that this was not my midwife or my birth center. But no worries! Another appointment at another waterbirth center next week. That's right people. There are two within a five mile radius of my abode. Which doesn't even include fancy pants OHSU, which has birth tubs and midwives but won't let you VBAC in the tub (dumb dumb dumb. Who ever says insurance companies don't make medical decisions is ignoring cause and effect.) Because Portland is all that and a bag of chips. A bag of locally grown, organic chips, thankyouverymuch.
I can't deny that some of this eagerness for the second kiddo has been hastened by first Kiddo weaning (which appears to have utterly and completely taken hold at this point). But we totally wanted another one, and I had been all worried about whether I would have to wean Kiddo before he chose to do so in order to get pregnant or due to discomfort during pregnancy. And now I don't have to make that decision. I am slowly coming around to feeling grateful to the universe for helping me out on that point, as I gradually come to the realization that Kiddo did not break up with me. It felt a little like he did though, and one of my mama friends agreed with me. Another mama friend had the most totally perfect reaction - I mentioned that Robert had weaned and she said, "Oh my gosh, are you okay?" She totally got it without my having to even say, "I feel sad." That was awesome. My sweet, sweet husband has been everything that is supportive and loving (hm, syntax suffering from Jane Austen syndrome, from watching P&P and S&S while flat on my back with nasty cold...) but that is different from someone who has been there and totally gets it.
So last pregnancy I felt very anxious and vulnerable in the face of all this DATA coming STRAIGHT AT MY HEAD! all of which certainly meant that I would make the Wrong Choice and my child would suffer horribly for my ignorance. Not even a tiny bit prone to the dramatic, me, particularly me on progesterone poisoning. Nope. So this time around I have the distinct advantage of having done this before, but seeing as this could (assuming we are blessed with another kiddo) be my last ride on this merry-go-round, I want to be able to relax and enjoy it, and having squared away who is going to take care of us will be a great start. So this place was lovely, and this midwife clearly knowledgeable and dedicated, but there was an... energy. Sorry to be so specific. It probably didn't help that after telling her about my blog and giving her one of my blog cards (midwives are usually big lactivists) she asked if I wanted to meet her kiddo who had never had a bottle even though she works full time. Grrr. She readily acknowledged that working at a birth center with a full-time-on-site nanny is not what most women get to do. And of course the kid was adorable. Also she was very young, and I think I need a midwife my age or older. Which is not fair but there it is. Anyway, I'm going to trust my gut on this one, see how the second birth center is, and if I like the first one better they do have nine midwives, some of them are bound to click for me.
One interesting analogy has struck me in recent days with this little project. I have met a lot of medical professionals who are very dismissive about what the mama wants in the birth experience, like she is being unreasonable and demanding, and will just have to get what she gets. Nobody says this to you when you are planning a wedding. It's all color schemes and themes and fancy invitations and blah blah blah and make sure the bride is happy. Now I realize that there are seldom serious medical complications for brides (although I bet if there were proper studies on this we would find more than people realize, mostly due to anxiety and families going weird on brides with no warning). But it strikes me that birth is every bit as emotionally important as a wedding. Even more so to those of us whose weddings are waaaaay back in the rear view mirror. Frankly by the time all the planning was in full swing I would have been happy to keep the money and elope, but I'm glad I didn't. But my point is, we've gone all weird on birth in this country and we treat it like you've got some sort of odd malady to be survived, rather than a miracle in your belly which is to be celebrated at every possible moment. This is dumb and I ain't gonna put up with it this time. I won't make my doula wear a bridesmaid dress, but I am going to do everything I can to make this go well and be enjoyable. And after all that, if hypothetical Kiddo #2 has to come out the escape hatch, I hope I will be able to be at peace with it.
More boob juice next time, promise.
Much love,
Suzi
PS - in case anyone reading this is still baking their bun, please don't be freaked out about c-section. I got all disappointed about mine but it's totally survivable and sometimes really is best for one or both parties involved. First day afterwards was a belly ache and felt like a nasty flu, and then got better and better. Abdominal soreness lasted longer than I expected but was totally tolerable. So please don't freak yourself out about it. You have survived worse, I'm sure.
No, I'm not pregnant. But the twinkle in my eye is getting mighty bright.
I am quite determined to do everything I can to enable a hypothetical second kiddo to come out the main exit, rather than my poor little dude who had to come out the emergency escape hatch in a babyectomy (more commonly known as a Cesarean Section - was Caesar actually born this way? 'cause I'm pretty sure that would mean mama Caesar never got to meet him.) So today I visited a waterbirth center just a mile from my home here in Beervana. (No I'm not drinking beer.) I feel very encouraged about VBAC, and the center was lovely, and I have a feeling that this was not my midwife or my birth center. But no worries! Another appointment at another waterbirth center next week. That's right people. There are two within a five mile radius of my abode. Which doesn't even include fancy pants OHSU, which has birth tubs and midwives but won't let you VBAC in the tub (dumb dumb dumb. Who ever says insurance companies don't make medical decisions is ignoring cause and effect.) Because Portland is all that and a bag of chips. A bag of locally grown, organic chips, thankyouverymuch.
I can't deny that some of this eagerness for the second kiddo has been hastened by first Kiddo weaning (which appears to have utterly and completely taken hold at this point). But we totally wanted another one, and I had been all worried about whether I would have to wean Kiddo before he chose to do so in order to get pregnant or due to discomfort during pregnancy. And now I don't have to make that decision. I am slowly coming around to feeling grateful to the universe for helping me out on that point, as I gradually come to the realization that Kiddo did not break up with me. It felt a little like he did though, and one of my mama friends agreed with me. Another mama friend had the most totally perfect reaction - I mentioned that Robert had weaned and she said, "Oh my gosh, are you okay?" She totally got it without my having to even say, "I feel sad." That was awesome. My sweet, sweet husband has been everything that is supportive and loving (hm, syntax suffering from Jane Austen syndrome, from watching P&P and S&S while flat on my back with nasty cold...) but that is different from someone who has been there and totally gets it.
So last pregnancy I felt very anxious and vulnerable in the face of all this DATA coming STRAIGHT AT MY HEAD! all of which certainly meant that I would make the Wrong Choice and my child would suffer horribly for my ignorance. Not even a tiny bit prone to the dramatic, me, particularly me on progesterone poisoning. Nope. So this time around I have the distinct advantage of having done this before, but seeing as this could (assuming we are blessed with another kiddo) be my last ride on this merry-go-round, I want to be able to relax and enjoy it, and having squared away who is going to take care of us will be a great start. So this place was lovely, and this midwife clearly knowledgeable and dedicated, but there was an... energy. Sorry to be so specific. It probably didn't help that after telling her about my blog and giving her one of my blog cards (midwives are usually big lactivists) she asked if I wanted to meet her kiddo who had never had a bottle even though she works full time. Grrr. She readily acknowledged that working at a birth center with a full-time-on-site nanny is not what most women get to do. And of course the kid was adorable. Also she was very young, and I think I need a midwife my age or older. Which is not fair but there it is. Anyway, I'm going to trust my gut on this one, see how the second birth center is, and if I like the first one better they do have nine midwives, some of them are bound to click for me.
One interesting analogy has struck me in recent days with this little project. I have met a lot of medical professionals who are very dismissive about what the mama wants in the birth experience, like she is being unreasonable and demanding, and will just have to get what she gets. Nobody says this to you when you are planning a wedding. It's all color schemes and themes and fancy invitations and blah blah blah and make sure the bride is happy. Now I realize that there are seldom serious medical complications for brides (although I bet if there were proper studies on this we would find more than people realize, mostly due to anxiety and families going weird on brides with no warning). But it strikes me that birth is every bit as emotionally important as a wedding. Even more so to those of us whose weddings are waaaaay back in the rear view mirror. Frankly by the time all the planning was in full swing I would have been happy to keep the money and elope, but I'm glad I didn't. But my point is, we've gone all weird on birth in this country and we treat it like you've got some sort of odd malady to be survived, rather than a miracle in your belly which is to be celebrated at every possible moment. This is dumb and I ain't gonna put up with it this time. I won't make my doula wear a bridesmaid dress, but I am going to do everything I can to make this go well and be enjoyable. And after all that, if hypothetical Kiddo #2 has to come out the escape hatch, I hope I will be able to be at peace with it.
More boob juice next time, promise.
Much love,
Suzi
PS - in case anyone reading this is still baking their bun, please don't be freaked out about c-section. I got all disappointed about mine but it's totally survivable and sometimes really is best for one or both parties involved. First day afterwards was a belly ache and felt like a nasty flu, and then got better and better. Abdominal soreness lasted longer than I expected but was totally tolerable. So please don't freak yourself out about it. You have survived worse, I'm sure.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The New Boobjuicer Blahs
Hello Dear Boobjuicers and Friends!
I just received the following comment on a previous post from a new mama whose kiddo is about two months old:
I've been feeling somewhat down on breastfeeding. It just seems like it's more of a hassle to breastfeed than to formula feed. People are more comfortable with a bottle than a boob. Last weekend I nursed in public for the first time. I refuse to nurse in a bathroom anymore. What do you usually tell people if breastfeeding makes them uncomfortable?
I wrote such a huge reply that Google wouldn't post it as a comment, so here it is, even larger now:
I think we have all had this moment. There are a lot of reasons why new mamas (and even repeat mamas, I hear told) get discouraged or exasperated. It can be uncomfortable. We have to learn to be okay with whipping out the girls in public - something we have been discouraged from doing since well before there was anything to whip out. And I think pretty much all of us, at some point, get annoyed with our co-parent that he or she could, theoretically, sleep through the night, and we can't. So I will start by saying what I and many other mamas have said before: I promise, it is worth it.
There are sort of two things to address here, so I'll take them separately. The first one is the comfort issue. I think you mean emotionally and socially comfortable (although if you mean physically comfortable let me know - lots of help available for that). I think the real answer is to examine what it is that makes you uncomfortable. Is it the bare breasted aspect of it? Is it that you think your baby is bothering someone by crying that she is hungry? Is it that you think other people think you are weird for breastfeeding?
When Kiddo was a brand new little dude, I was at first very shy and apologetic about breastfeeding, and then went into this sort of in-your-face mode of being assertive that it was okay to breastfeed in public. I found after a while that a lot of my militant lactivism was actually a defensive reaction based on an assumption that everyone was looking at me funny for nursing in public. In fact, the vast majority of people weren't paying me any attention at all. A small sub-group were looking at me in a "yay she's breastfeeding!" way, with friendly smiles. And a smaller sub-group looked, freaked out, and looked away. This is probably the group that has you nervous? While they would be more comfortable if you were using a bottle, that's their problem, not yours. You're not nursing in front of a huge camera broadcasting into their living room, you're not nursing in their home, and you're probably not nursing anywhere they can't just choose to look away. It's a sad comment on American prudishness that they are more comfortable watching you feed your kid something so nutritionally inferior out of a plastic bottle than watching you do something perfectly natural, which you were designed by God and nature to do. And sadly, this is far from the last time that someone who parents or imagines they would parent differently from you is going to be uncomfortable with your choices. Even if you didn't breastfeed, you would have to learn to ignore people's judgements of your parenting. It's a sad fact, and breastfeeding is a great opportunity to learn to handle it in an area where you are more sure of yourself than you might be when it's time outs, or letting the kid cry in the grocery store, or whatever it's going to be.
Lastly, there probably are still one or two people out there who see a woman breastfeeding, pull a face, and make a snotty comment to their companions, "oh mah gah, I canNOT beLIEVE she is DOING THAT!" These people are lame jerks who really need to get a hobby. They are not worth your bother, except maybe to sit up straighter, pull your own face that says "Darn tootin' I am, and my boobs are nicer than yours too, so BRING IT!" Seriously, totally not worth your time. These people probably think pregnant women should hide under burlap sacks and never go out of doors. They need therapy and you are best served to ignore them, or laugh at them quietly to yourself.
I nursed everywhere without apology after a while. I made two exceptions - church and the workplace, the former being full of tiny little old men who I figured might actually have a heart attack, and the latter being somewhere that someone really couldn't leave without risking their livelihood. Eventually I realized the tiny old men didn't even care and nursed in church once or twice. Of course it's up to you to decide what you are comfortable with, but I would encourage you to think of your breastfeeding as not only every bit as publicly appropriate as a bottle, but as a way to say to all who might see you just how dedicated you are to giving your kiddo the very best possible.
That said, if you still feel ambivalent, try a nursing cover up. I have one to spare if you want it - Kiddo hated it and now I'm so brazen I probably wouldn't even bother for the hypothetical next one. If you really just feel shy about your breasts, this will help. After a while you may become more comfortable with the idea though - half the people on the planet have breasts or will have them, and much of the other half was nursed with breasts, or is otherwise fond of them. Very, very few people leer at a breastfeeding woman in a sexual way - if they are pervy enough to leer sexually, the baby usually turns them off.
Some people will think you are weird for breastfeeding, and more so the older your kid gets. They are wrong. They represent an opportunity for you to demonstrate how totally together, thoughtful, normal women like you choose breastfeeding for a lot of reasons, none of which are weird. They may very well appreciate one day that you made it easier for them to breastfeed or support their partner in breastfeeding. I say this from personal experience. I used to be uncomfortable around breastfeeding women, and I remember thinking my friend was weird for nursing her toddler. Boy I hope she didn't notice, but if she did, I am so, so sorry, and so very grateful now for her example.
Once I got more comfortable about breastfeeding, I was able to observe more objectively the reactions around me. So many mamas smiling nostalgically, which was so, so nice. Some people even made supportive comments, which might feel a little awkward at first but is really very sweet. Hosts making sure I was comfortable, fetching me pillows and glasses of water. Mamas encouraging their little ones to give me room or privacy if I wanted it. A pastor even said a prayer of gratitude for my ability to nourish my child. The zeitgeist is swinging back towards this miraculous gift you have to give your child, and you get to be a part of that wave. Yes, I am getting a bit carried away, but hey, just use me as a yard stick - you're not nearly as weird as me yet so you must be okay, right?
As to hassle, I think learning to nurse is harder than learning to use formula, but once you've got the hang if it, it's way easier. Think how much junk you have to gather together to go anywhere with your little one. Now imagine that you had to also guess how much Kiddo would want to eat, make sure you had enough clean bottles to serve that much, possibly mix the formula before you go or have to worry about whether you would be comfortable with the water supply while you were out (maybe you're not squeemish about tap water but some mamas are) and then haul all that extra stuff around with you. Also you have to keep ahead on formula supply at home or make late night trips to the store when you run out, and that stuff is expensive! And don't even get me started on traveling. I loved how easy it was to feed Kiddo when we were on an airplane, and of course this also soothed his ears during takeoff and landing.
Obviously I am biased and have a bit of an agenda, but I think breastfeeding is extremely rewarding, much easier than formula feeding, and something to be totally proud of, not shy about. I bet you will soon feel much more comfortable.
Good luck and happy breastfeeding!
Much love,
Suzi
I just received the following comment on a previous post from a new mama whose kiddo is about two months old:
I've been feeling somewhat down on breastfeeding. It just seems like it's more of a hassle to breastfeed than to formula feed. People are more comfortable with a bottle than a boob. Last weekend I nursed in public for the first time. I refuse to nurse in a bathroom anymore. What do you usually tell people if breastfeeding makes them uncomfortable?
I wrote such a huge reply that Google wouldn't post it as a comment, so here it is, even larger now:
I think we have all had this moment. There are a lot of reasons why new mamas (and even repeat mamas, I hear told) get discouraged or exasperated. It can be uncomfortable. We have to learn to be okay with whipping out the girls in public - something we have been discouraged from doing since well before there was anything to whip out. And I think pretty much all of us, at some point, get annoyed with our co-parent that he or she could, theoretically, sleep through the night, and we can't. So I will start by saying what I and many other mamas have said before: I promise, it is worth it.
There are sort of two things to address here, so I'll take them separately. The first one is the comfort issue. I think you mean emotionally and socially comfortable (although if you mean physically comfortable let me know - lots of help available for that). I think the real answer is to examine what it is that makes you uncomfortable. Is it the bare breasted aspect of it? Is it that you think your baby is bothering someone by crying that she is hungry? Is it that you think other people think you are weird for breastfeeding?
When Kiddo was a brand new little dude, I was at first very shy and apologetic about breastfeeding, and then went into this sort of in-your-face mode of being assertive that it was okay to breastfeed in public. I found after a while that a lot of my militant lactivism was actually a defensive reaction based on an assumption that everyone was looking at me funny for nursing in public. In fact, the vast majority of people weren't paying me any attention at all. A small sub-group were looking at me in a "yay she's breastfeeding!" way, with friendly smiles. And a smaller sub-group looked, freaked out, and looked away. This is probably the group that has you nervous? While they would be more comfortable if you were using a bottle, that's their problem, not yours. You're not nursing in front of a huge camera broadcasting into their living room, you're not nursing in their home, and you're probably not nursing anywhere they can't just choose to look away. It's a sad comment on American prudishness that they are more comfortable watching you feed your kid something so nutritionally inferior out of a plastic bottle than watching you do something perfectly natural, which you were designed by God and nature to do. And sadly, this is far from the last time that someone who parents or imagines they would parent differently from you is going to be uncomfortable with your choices. Even if you didn't breastfeed, you would have to learn to ignore people's judgements of your parenting. It's a sad fact, and breastfeeding is a great opportunity to learn to handle it in an area where you are more sure of yourself than you might be when it's time outs, or letting the kid cry in the grocery store, or whatever it's going to be.
Lastly, there probably are still one or two people out there who see a woman breastfeeding, pull a face, and make a snotty comment to their companions, "oh mah gah, I canNOT beLIEVE she is DOING THAT!" These people are lame jerks who really need to get a hobby. They are not worth your bother, except maybe to sit up straighter, pull your own face that says "Darn tootin' I am, and my boobs are nicer than yours too, so BRING IT!" Seriously, totally not worth your time. These people probably think pregnant women should hide under burlap sacks and never go out of doors. They need therapy and you are best served to ignore them, or laugh at them quietly to yourself.
I nursed everywhere without apology after a while. I made two exceptions - church and the workplace, the former being full of tiny little old men who I figured might actually have a heart attack, and the latter being somewhere that someone really couldn't leave without risking their livelihood. Eventually I realized the tiny old men didn't even care and nursed in church once or twice. Of course it's up to you to decide what you are comfortable with, but I would encourage you to think of your breastfeeding as not only every bit as publicly appropriate as a bottle, but as a way to say to all who might see you just how dedicated you are to giving your kiddo the very best possible.
That said, if you still feel ambivalent, try a nursing cover up. I have one to spare if you want it - Kiddo hated it and now I'm so brazen I probably wouldn't even bother for the hypothetical next one. If you really just feel shy about your breasts, this will help. After a while you may become more comfortable with the idea though - half the people on the planet have breasts or will have them, and much of the other half was nursed with breasts, or is otherwise fond of them. Very, very few people leer at a breastfeeding woman in a sexual way - if they are pervy enough to leer sexually, the baby usually turns them off.
Some people will think you are weird for breastfeeding, and more so the older your kid gets. They are wrong. They represent an opportunity for you to demonstrate how totally together, thoughtful, normal women like you choose breastfeeding for a lot of reasons, none of which are weird. They may very well appreciate one day that you made it easier for them to breastfeed or support their partner in breastfeeding. I say this from personal experience. I used to be uncomfortable around breastfeeding women, and I remember thinking my friend was weird for nursing her toddler. Boy I hope she didn't notice, but if she did, I am so, so sorry, and so very grateful now for her example.
Once I got more comfortable about breastfeeding, I was able to observe more objectively the reactions around me. So many mamas smiling nostalgically, which was so, so nice. Some people even made supportive comments, which might feel a little awkward at first but is really very sweet. Hosts making sure I was comfortable, fetching me pillows and glasses of water. Mamas encouraging their little ones to give me room or privacy if I wanted it. A pastor even said a prayer of gratitude for my ability to nourish my child. The zeitgeist is swinging back towards this miraculous gift you have to give your child, and you get to be a part of that wave. Yes, I am getting a bit carried away, but hey, just use me as a yard stick - you're not nearly as weird as me yet so you must be okay, right?
As to hassle, I think learning to nurse is harder than learning to use formula, but once you've got the hang if it, it's way easier. Think how much junk you have to gather together to go anywhere with your little one. Now imagine that you had to also guess how much Kiddo would want to eat, make sure you had enough clean bottles to serve that much, possibly mix the formula before you go or have to worry about whether you would be comfortable with the water supply while you were out (maybe you're not squeemish about tap water but some mamas are) and then haul all that extra stuff around with you. Also you have to keep ahead on formula supply at home or make late night trips to the store when you run out, and that stuff is expensive! And don't even get me started on traveling. I loved how easy it was to feed Kiddo when we were on an airplane, and of course this also soothed his ears during takeoff and landing.
Obviously I am biased and have a bit of an agenda, but I think breastfeeding is extremely rewarding, much easier than formula feeding, and something to be totally proud of, not shy about. I bet you will soon feel much more comfortable.
Good luck and happy breastfeeding!
Much love,
Suzi
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