With the next one, gawk if you want to

I haven't linked up to the Breastfeeding Blog Hop in a while. This week's topic, Nursing in Public, has been a popular one! If you would like to share your experiences nursing in public (NIP), link up! Be sure to visit the other links listed below; there are some great posts this week!

I am so ashamed of myself for the annoyed glances I gave, and the "CAN YOU BELIEVE HER?" comments I made about nursing mothers before becoming one myself. The comment I most often made was, "I don't care that she's feeding her child, but can't she cover up?" Oh to be so naive!
Unfortunately, I continued to feel the same way when I had Gabriel. I was nervous about offending others, and couldn't shake the fear of accidentally exposing myself. Plus, no one in my family (with the exception of my SIL) had breastfed, so I just felt all-around uncomfortable about nursing in front of others right from the start.
Despite my nervousness, we nursed in front of some visitors after returning home from the hospital, and in the homes of family members. I used a cover, and hated it!  I wasn't good at situating him and getting him latched on while under the cover. So to avoid flashing, I would go to another room, get situated, and then come back. That was a pain in the rear.
As soon as he learned how to flail his tiny arms around, it just became impossible to cover up. Since I was still so self-conscious about exposing myself, I decided to just give bottles of expressed milk while we were on the go. I'm so mad at myself for that decision. I'd like to go back in time and slap the old me for being so foolishly insecure. I wish that instead of leaving the room to nurse in private, that I'd stayed put and felt confident in my ability to feed my baby in the most natural way possible.
Now I'm an exclusive pumper (you can read about why here.) and it's too late for my new take on nursing in public. I have big plans for my next baby though. I'll be holding my head high and nursing in public without fear of what others think. I want to make it clear that I have no plans of running around topless, but I'm not going to be concerned about the possibility of a slip here or there. Who cares if someone sees me feeding my child? It won't be featured in an adult film somewhere. It is simply the natural, God-given ability to nourish my child.
The last few times I've seen other mommas NIP, I made it a point to shoot them a smile. You should have seen the smiles these women gave back. They felt encouraged, supported, excited... not ashamed like many people make nursing moms feel. I also had the opportunity to defend a woman that was quite a bit exposed at the mall after someone made my old, "Can't she cover up?!" comment. It was strange how quickly the subject was dropped when I responded, "I think it's wonderful that she doesn't feel like it's necessary to hide. Afterall, she's just feeding her baby."
Have you shot a smile at a momma nursing in public, or had an opportunity to defend one? I'd love to hear your story!

I'll leave you with a cartoon a friend of mine posted on facebook. It gave me a good laugh, and I hope it does for you as well!

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

This post is my contribution to The Breastfeeding Blog Hop hosted by Life with Levi, Slacker Mom, and Diary of a Devil Dog Wife. Feel free to link up, and please visit the other blogs listed below to share some BFing love!!

I had to laugh when I saw the topic for this week, Body Changes.

One of my closest friends breastfed her two kids, and really is one of only a few people I know that has breastfed. She by default then, became my go to person for all BFing related questions. We had a conversation somewhat recently about our bodies after pregnancy and BFing.  It started with me asking about whether her "ladies" went back to their normal size after she was through BFing, and ended when her husband so very lovingly threw in his two cents- "Swing low, sweet chariot!" We all had a good laugh about it, and continued on with our evening. Since then, I've gone back and forth with whether I really find that funny. Most days- yes, it's hilarious! It's a fun way to appreciate a piece of my new identity, battle scars if you will. In all seriousness though, it's a small price to pay for the well being of my precious little boy. There are other days however, that I'm pretty peeved about the ladies swinging low....and I'm sure if it's bad now, it's really going to be bad when I stop breastfeeding, and worse after future nurslings. Yikes! As depressing as "swing low, sweet chariots" can be, there are a few things that make me feel better as I stand completely bare in front of the mirror, and try to lift the ladies back up where they used to stand during their former glory. First, is that my problem isn't anything my good friend Vicky doesn't have a secret solution to. One trip to her place and I'll be a hot, confident Momma! Second, and most importantly, my husband has a such an appreciation for them it's difficult to not feel proud!

So maybe, just maybe, "swing low sweet chariot" can be funny all the time??

Why I'm Moooing

This post is my contribution to The Breastfeeding Blog Hop hosted by Life with Levi, The Slacker Mom, and Diary of a Devil Dog Wife. This week'ss topic is pumping. Feel free to link up, and please visit the other blogs listed below to share some BFing love!!

From the beginning, I didn't find breastfeeding all that difficult. We did have some latching issues in the hospital, but with the help of a nipple shield we got off to a great start! My milk came in (phew!), his latch caught on (finally!), and I reached my first initial goal (3 months). Success!

While pregnant, I had decided that love it or hate it, I would at least nurse for 3 months. So when that milestone rolled around, I set my next goal- 1 year. Things were going so well that I knew I'd make it to a year easy. Then it hit- the nursing strike. No matter what I tried, my darling little 4 month old screamed bloody murder at the sight of my breast. Everything I read said to be patient and keep trying...but not to be pushy. So I'd offer, he'd scream, and I would give him a bottle. My breast pump became my best friend, and I felt like a failure. I reminded myself daily that he was still getting my milk, and that was all that mattered; my broken heart felt otherwise. I missed the emotional aspect of nursing, and felt like i should be mooing as I pumped away my day.

During the month and a half I tried to work through the strike, we had just a handful of nursing sessions, each in the bathtub. I know the warm water relaxed both of us and calmed the mountain of stress I was carrying on my back. I could tell he found comfort in nursing, and that made our situation much harder on me. I considered our tub sessions a step in the right direction, but it wasn't long before they became screaming sessions instead. I finally decided that a month and a half of being rejected was all I had in me, and threw in the towel.

I realized though that since I'd already been pumping that whole time, there really was nothing keeping me from continuing. After doing a little research online, I was quickly empowered by the number of moms committed to exclusively pumping. (which is how i was introduced to Life with Levi's, Jen!)
Gabriel is 7 months old now, and I'm as determined as ever to make it to one year! Now that I have a good routine, and have become creative with when and where I pump, it's really not that big of a deal. I enjoy knowing I'm doing the best i can for my son. Sure I still feel a little like mooing.
MOOOOOooooooo!
That feels better.

What type of mom are you?

My mom loves to tell people that when she would ask what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always gave the same answer- a mommy. Never a doctor, an astronaut, a singer, or a vet...always a mommy. It's true; I've wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember. During my growing up years that included staying at home like my mom did. Still, if you had told me a few years ago that today I would be a breastfeeding, bed sharing, stay-at-home mom, I would have laughed at you.

Life in the "real world" put a fear in me that financially we could never make it on one income. Joey was convinced it was necessary for us to both work, and at the time I didn't really have an argument because I couldn't see a way around it either. So I worked on climbing the corporate ladder.

While working I came across many types of moms- single moms, married moms with supportive husbands and with jerk off husbands, those who worked full-time, part-time, and some that just needed to get out of the house and have a little adult conversation. I wondered what type of mom I would be. Lots of moms stand out in my mind when I think back about all the lovely ladies that worked for me over the years. I didn't realize it at the time, but each of them were teaching things that I needed to know before being a mom myself. Without giving any names, I'll tell you about a few that I have much more respect for now that I get it.

First, is the single mom. I respected her at the time to be sure. I saw the struggle it was for her to both provide for her son, and to be there for him as much as possible. She worked two jobs to support them. Full-time 8-5, and part-time for me a few nights a week and on weekends. As was the norm for being the boss, I was the bad guy. The retail world doesn't stop for baseball games or all the countless birthday parties that kids get invited to. She wanted to do it all, but I needed her to work. She slowly became more and more depressed that she saw so little of her son, and her performance dropped off a cliff. I felt for her, but my boss was chewing and that had to stop. We had a talk and she decided that she couldn't make the job work anymore. I was relieved that I didn't have to continue to nag on her performance, or worse take "next steps". I ran into this mom on Mother's Day. I was strolling through the mall, enjoying my day with Gabriel and Joey. She was working. My heart broke for her. I wished her a happy Mother's Day, gave her a hug, and whispered, "I'm so sorry." in her ear. Without saying a word, her face told me, "You do what you have to do." I know I will for Gabriel.

Second, the breastfeeding mom. I'll say first that breastfeeding never really interested me. My mom didn't BF me, and no one I knew had breastfed either. It seemed unnecessary, and I wondered why anyone would bother when formula seemed to produce healthy children too. This mom was pregnant with her second son when I took over the store she worked in. She soon after left on maternity leave, and returned to work afterwards carrying a big black tote bag. Everyday she toted that heavy thing into work, and quite a bit of time went by before I even realized what it was for- pumping. How it went unnoticed that she went to the bathroom during her lunch break everyday, and didn't come out until her lunch was over is...well, sad. When I did notice, I thought ewwww! I was repulsed that she spent her entire lunch break eating and pumping in the bathroom. I wondered why anyone would subject themselves to such torture. Ugh...eating in the bathroom? No way! Any musings on what it would be like to breastfeed flew right out of my head. Nothing to think about. I wasn't doing it. Luckily I was an avid reader while pregnant. I learned the benefits to bfing and decided to give it a try. I knew I'd only bf during my maternity leave though. There was no way I was hanging out in the bathroom on my lunch break! As it turned out, I didn't return to work. Looking back I keep kicking myself for allowing her to pump in the bathroom. She never complained, and it didn't occur to me to figure out a better place for her. The parking lot was too far considering we only had 30min lunch breaks, and the stock room wouldn't have provided any privacy. The only other option was my office. Really my office wasn't just mine though. It was used by her and our PT managers too, so I don't know if that was a great option. It had a lock on the door, but I wonder if she would have just worried the whole time that someone would need in the file cabinet while she was in there. I could have figured something out for her, but I didn't know any better. Poor thing pumped in the bathroom for months on end. I cringe at the thought, but if the bathroom was my only option, I'd do the same thing for Gabriel.

Lastly, I'll tell you about the mom that just had to get out of the house. I'll tell you about one of them, but there were actually MANY of this type of mom! This mom was a stay-at-home mom of two little ones. She started working PT to have an opportunity for adult conversation. As it turned out, working really suited her. It gave her the boost of confidence she needed after spending most of her days playing peek-a-boo while wearing spit-up. She quickly became interested in working towards a promotion, which meant more hours. After she received that one, she was determined to get promoted again. That promotion was a FT position. This was the mom I had a hard time understanding. She was able to stay at home like I wanted to, but chose to work instead. I understand now that being a stay-at-home mom is a thankless job. No one comes by to compliment you on your successes on a regular basis. There are no performance reviews to praise your strengths and help you to build on your opportunities. There are no interviews for you to brag about all you've accomplished. No promotions. No pay raises....and worse, no pay at all! Having all of those things gave this mom the oompf she needed. Her relationship with her husband started to spark and she was overall a happy and confident woman. I see how I lack the confidence I once had while I was working. I'd like to get it back in another way, but I respect her decision to work for the happiness of her and her family. Whatever the reason, I'll never judge a working mom again.

Now that I'm a mom, I realize that as long as you love your child unconditionally and provide all their needs, there are no right and wrong ways to be a mom. What works for some, would never work for others. So whatever type of mom you are, be her with confidence!

What type of mom are you? Is that what you expected?