My thoughts on nursing

I have many thoughts on nursing - some positive and some not so positive. I hesitate to say "negative" because I want to respect the nursing child, the nursing relationship, and the sacrifice that I and others make in order to make it possible for me to nurse.

To be clear, nursing is first and foremost a sacrifice. I can't think of one thing about it that is fun. Women who decide to nurse and stick to it should be commended. Big time. But what spurred me to write a post on this topic is the self-righteousness that I have detected bubbling up in my own life when it comes to nursing. I am so eager to advise others on how to establish nursing and keep it going, how to overcome problems with supply, latch, pain, pumping, fussy babies with sensitive tummies. How to not give up, no matter what. I want to give that to mothers as if it is a gift, as if they should be grateful.

I'm sure for some women, it is a blessing. But I have to be very honest with myself about my motivation. When I think back to my early days in nursing, it was fraught with struggle, tears, frustration, guilt at the thought of giving up, and a sense of a challenge and determination to make it work no matter what. (Those last two may be one and the same.) There is a lot of talk these days about how beneficial breastmilk is to a child compared to formula and so I was determined that Madeline would get nothing but the breast. When I made that decision, I did not anticipate the possibility that she would refuse the breast for the first four months of her life and that my feeding-related workload, which as any mother knows is all-encompassing in the beginning, would at least double due to around the clock pumping in addition to feeding and due to my bull-headed determination NOT to give the baby formula.

Anyway, somewhere along the line, I went ahead and made the switch over from the "new, ameteur nursing mom" to "experienced, embattled know-it-all." I don't like that about me, so I have decided to back off. Next time I see someone giving one of my Facebook friends detrimental advice on how to help their baby take a bottle so he doesn't starve when momma goes back to work and the nanny can't breastfeed, I will bite my tongue. I am not a lactation consultant or a discussion leader for La Leche League and I don't want to be. I will respect where other people are coming from and keep my mouth shut.

Last night my baby ate a dead spider.

I almost called poison control but my husband said it would be okay. He was taking a nap when it happened, so I went in to wake him up and ask him if he thought I should worry. Groggily, he said no. I shut the door. It didn't look like an especially dangerous type of spider, but there is a feeling that comes from looking at your baby and recognizing that she has something in her mouth - what is it? Probably just a thorn burr that the dog has been carrying around in his fur for a while. It's not unusual for her to eat those. But thorn burrs don't usually disintegrate and what are those little black stringy things hanging out of her mouth? Spit it out in Mommy's hand, honey...what is that? Oh dear God no. I wondered for a moment if rinsing her mouth out with soap was a good idea. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of all the stories of kids eating bugs and dirt and dog food and I then was able to reassure myself that I would just keep an eye on her. After all, the dog eats those spiders all the time. Pity he didn't catch this one earlier.