Hitting the Bottle

In the past year,  I've found myself doing, saying, and believing things I never imagined. I went to Disney World - a childhood dream I feared would never come true. I adopted yet another cat.  (She is currently my favorite, but don't tell Thor.) I overcame the curse of miscarriage and welcomed my baby boy into the world.

And I became a supporter of formula-feeding.

That's not to say I'm anti-breastfeeding.  Not at all. I think it's a beautiful and wonderful and wise thing to do.  But, after unforeseen factors began to stack up against my little guy and me, formula feeding ended up saving our relationship.  I mentioned it in previous posts, but I really feel that feeding my baby formula has allowed me to keep my sanity.

What interests me is that, although science has pretty consistently proven that breastmilk is best for most babies and in most situations, the long-term differences between breastfed and bottle-fed babies don't seem that significant.  

I don't have any resources to cite right now, but my friend Jaime, who out of medical necessity formula fed all four of her gorgeous girls, made a great point when I was preparing to give birth to my son.

"When they publish all those studies in support of breastfeeding," she observed (and I am paraphrasing here), "and the results always state that breastfeeding results in healthier, smarter babies, they don't take other factors into play.  They do not consider the education level of the moms, the family's income, the foods consumed by the mothers, the health of the mothers, the socio-economics involved."  

She makes a great point.  Those breastfed babies who "never get sick"...is that a result of their food alone...that in conjunction with, say, their parents' finances?  Did mom and dad have better access to medical care?  Live in a less-polluted environment?  Keep baby out of daycare or other settings that might expose them to more germs?  And, those bottle-fed babies who were "prone to be heavier"...was that because of the formula itself, or because mom and dad never modeled healthy eating habits, or allowed junior to play video games instead of riding his bicycle?  I don't believe that these studies can account for this huge range of variables.  So, even though I still think breastmilk is a great option for many moms (dare I say, most?), it isn't fair to put formula in a corner and label it "evil".

I'm sure there are vitriolic "lactivists" out there who would condemn me for "quitting" and "giving up" on my baby.  They might think that I was "condemning him" to a life of "sickness and disease" by ending breastfeeding after seven weeks of painful, distressing efforts.  "Everyone can do it," I've heard from that camp.  "It's really very, very rare that a mother cannot produce milk for her child."  

Even if that is so, my baby was a preemie with a high palate that affected his ability to latch, causing feedings to be difficult and unsatisfying for him, and painful and disheartening for me.  Three weeks in, I was already resenting my own, beloved, prayed-for and sweet-faced son.  

That was causing him more damage than offering him a bottle, people.  And it was certainly damaging to me, as well.  Any motherly feelings of warmth and love would literally be drained out of me when he began to express signs of hunger.  I would quietly sob at night when those faint wails began to drift over the baby monitor.  They would culminate in hysterical cries, from both myself and my helpless infant.  

I hated what I was becoming.  It would have been hard enough to battle the post-natal hormones if nursing had gone well, but with feeding upon feeding resulting in a hungry, angry baby, things were worse.  I was so furious and guilty because the one thing that I didn't want to compromise as a new mom seemed out of my reach.  

I got advice - usually unsolicited, of course - suggesting a lactation consult (I had several, thanks), a certain kind of tea (after nine months of decaf, people, I wanted COFFEE), pumping ideas (always pump right after a feeding - yes, I see - so, while my slow-poke eater takes an hour to gum away at his lunch, I am to spend his naptime pumping, only to wake and feed him again a half an hour after I pump...around the clock?) - and I think some ladies were genuinely convinced I was hurting my baby by feeding him formula.  One friend was even briefly shocked when I mentioned my husband was feeding the baby, before he realized that we hadn't been successful at breastfeeding. 

Even though I am not so very far removed from the situation, I can still look back on my baby's seven-week mark and say that the best choice I personally could have made for him was sticking a bottle of formula is his screaming little mouth.  With the pressure and stress of breastfeeding gone, I was able to begin to actually enjoy my son and see him as a blessing, a tiny human to love and cherish, rather than a voracious, demanding little beast who was physically hurting me 8-12 times daily.  He has slept through the night since we switched to the bottle.  I won't crow proudly over the crowds of moms whose babies are still nursing every two hours, because frankly, I have no idea of formula was the magic bullet that did it for him.  If anything, it was the fact that he finally had a full tummy, and that mommy was calmer and more peaceful when she was with him.  They say infants can sense that, right?  Well, if I were a baby suddenly getting way chill, happy vibes coming from my mama, I'd sleep more soundly, too!

Photo credit: Brent Miller

I am a member of a formula-feeders group on Facebook.  Frequently, a lot of the women there assert that formula-feeders ("FFs") should not feel obligated to share their reasons for not breastfeeding.  Some reasons are medical.  Some are emotional.  Some are practical.  But in virtually all cases, the decision was best for the family in question.  This is important, because it recognizes the needs of the mothers as well as the babies.  If we live in a society that is so passionate about women's rights, women making their own choices about their bodies, then why are we so vicious towards women who do not breastfeed?  If fickle society had its way, women of any age could have abortions whenever and wherever they liked, but, if they did have the babies, they would have to do it naturally, and then breastfeed them on demand, but never in public. Because everyone knooooooows that's what is best, right?

Hence, the Mommy Wars continue.  

That is why I choose to share my struggles and reasons for breastfeeding.  Someday, when my son is old enough - and maybe when he sees a mom breastfeeding in public and asks what is going on - I can tell him that nursing is a beautiful thing, but I chose to formula-feed him because I love him.

Mommy Wars - I Surrender!

My baby will be two months old this week.  I feel like I've lived a whole lifetime in just these past eight weeks.  Late nights have been rough, of course, even with my husband helping to support me.  Diaper blowouts, crying jags, traumatic bathtimes - many of the challenges of parenthood have already reared their ugly heads.  I've got a good support team, though, so we're all getting by.

They say, however, that no two mommies are the same; nor are two babies.  Which means that everything - from how baby wants to be held to which brand of diaper works best, is up for debate.  The problem is, this mommy is also a perfectionist, which means that things must be done one of two ways: flawlessly or not at all.

That's not a good thing.  Especially when pretty much the next 18+ years of my life will be almost entirely trial and error.  *Cue panic attack.*

Although I'm not sharing every tiny little scrap of information about my baby with the world, I think it's important to at least chronicle some of my struggles.  After all, my readers have journeyed through miscarriage with me; now that my husband and I have our long-awaited child, we have a new set of challenges, and it's only fair that we're honest about those, too.  

Ronen spent nine days in the NICU, and although he received excellent care during that time, it severely limited my ability to bond with him, particularly in the area of breastfeeding.  That has been very difficult for me, and I've been quite hard on myself each time Ross or I mixed up a bottle of formula to supplement our little guy.  I wanted so badly to be able to breastfeed exclusively, but that just hasn't happened.  Poor latch,  ongoing pain, exhaustion on my part, or just plain discouragement has led us to turn to the (baby) bottle on occasion.  I've already run the gamut of ideas to make things more successful or easier, but most have failed for us, leaving me again condemning myself as a mother when I mumbled "yes, please", to my husband's offer of bottle-feeding the baby as I rolled back over for twenty more minutes of precious sleep when I should have been pumping, or feeding him myself.  

I've hated myself for losing patience with the baby when I couldn't understand his needs.  He was fed, changed, clean, warm, and swaddled.  Why was he still crying and WHEN WOULD HE STOP?!

Ross was concerned that I had post-partum depression.  I think the hormonal swings scared him, and rightly so - they scared me, too.  However, when I was honest with myself and did a little research, I found that the majority of the symptoms didn't match up with what I was feeling.  In fact, the greatest amount of my frustration was coming from one source alone: breastfeeding.

Or rather, my apparent failure at it.  

I realized that the times I struggled with the most anger, depression and anxiety were feeding times.  This might be linked with the baby's time in the NICU, where feedings were closely monitored and any time in which the baby consumed less than expected or took longer than expected was considered a failure.  Or, it could be a side effect of the self-imposed burden of perfectionism, since nursing has not been a happy, beautiful and successful experience from day one.  Probably a bit of both.

Still, once I isolated that part of motherhood, things got a little clearer.  I pinpointed the specifics of why breastfeeding was making me anxious, and realized that, while some are fixable, some really are not.  My son's high palate is something he has to grow into, and is causing latching problems which leave me in pain.  So I began to dislike nursing my son.

Dreading breastfeeding made me feel like a terrible mother, so the cycle continued.  I'd get upset about breastfeeding and it would frequently result in a self-fulfilling prophecy.  The baby would finally latch, but I'd be stuck in an awkward or painful position for forty-five minutes.  Or he would thrash about so violently that I'd have to literally pin his arms down to try to get him to eat.  And, yes, the little dude picked up on my emotions, and reacted accordingly.

So guess what?  He gets formula and pumped milk.  

I've read lots of comments in nursing forums online, and frankly, it's enough to make any mother feel that she is valueless if she cannot or will not provide a baby nourishment at her breast.  My girl Jaime, whom I frequently mention, was unable to nurse her twins and didn't learn until her fourth daughter was born that she actually had a glandular problem that prevented her from providing for her girls!  For four years she dealt with intermittent disappointment and shame because she wasn't a proud breast-feeding mama...and even now, after receiving the knowledge that there was nothing in her power she could have done, she sometimes has twinges of guilt.  Yes, breast milk has the upper hand on formula; mommies make it for each specific baby.  But, in my case, it was being provided with a heavy dose of stress, anxiety, anger, resentment, and dread.  That's not a cocktail I'd want to give any baby.

I frequently see it quoted that any woman can breastfeed if she tries hard enough, because it is "natural".  But that makes no sense at all!  It's "natural" to conceive children, yet thousands of couples each year find themselves truly unable to have babies, no matter how hard they try.  Some can be helped with medical intervention, some cannot. I believe breastfeeding is the same way.  I'm sure that the majority of women who have challenges can overcome them, but some cannot.  I'm not saying I cannot overcome my own challenges, but I'm slowly accepting that my son has had lots of my own milk these past several weeks - which is a great thing!  He gets lots of love and snuggles from anyone who feeds him.  The bottle has allowed my family to feed the baby, which has been spiritually fulfilling - after all, these people have prayed for us through each miscarriage and have been waiting to welcome this tiny one into our lives as anxiously as we have.  Why shouldn't I share him?  Plus, yes...it is immeasurably beneficial for my husband and I to share night-feeding duties.  Although I still take the lion's share (he works full time and I do not, so I try to let him sleep more at night and he lets me sleep in and nap on weekends and when he comes home), I definitely tag-team him sometimes.  "Your turn," I mumble as I roll over and steal another half-hour of sweet sleep.

I've had a few crisis moments over the past few days.  Moments when I am questioning my own decision to feed my baby both breast milk and formula.  Wondering if I'm denying him for my own comfort.  If Mommy being happy really does impact baby's happiness.  

But then I look at my sweet-faced sleeping son, happily snoozing with a belly full of milk, and I realize: even as a preemie, he is easily meeting his developmental milestones as though he were full-term.  He rolled over twice at 4 weeks (and lest that be a fluke, he did it again last week).  He is starting to smile and express pleasure.  He grabs at the bottle on his own.  He hold his head up for several seconds at a time.  He recognizes voices.  He has gained almost 3 pounds since birth.  He is beginning to sleep longer and longer stretches at night.  

He.  Is.  Happy.

And you know what else?

Mommy and Daddy are, too. 

If he scores two or three points lower on an IQ test because he consumed formula along with breast milk during his infancy, that's ok.  I will love him anyway, because he is my son.