Breastfeeding: Should I Eat My Whole Hat or Just Take a Big Bite?

A colorful colleague in my previous profession used to say, “(If-this-doesn’t-happen) I’ll eat my hat!”  Which she never did, probably because she never wore a hat but also because she was rarely incorrect!  And when I recently purchased a military-style chapeau made from organic cotton, the clerk told my daughter, “The hat’s organic so your mom could eat it!”

I wear the hat often and of course think of the eat-my-hat saying just as frequently, and that leads me to breastfeeding.  Obviously.  Or maybe not.  Bear with me…

As a physician assistant expectant mothers asked me many questions regarding the care of a newborn and when they posed to me the issue of feeding, I had the answer nailed:  breast is best.  Hands down.  In a ten-out-of-ten-doctors-agree kinda way. The antibodies, nutritional content, and the remarkable bonding experience that ensues are unmatched.  It’s what a mom should do.

At that point in my life, I was not a mother.  I had not personally been through the experience of nursing.  Academically, I understood it.  But I had not been in the trenches.  I don’t chose the term “trenches” lightly.  My pre-baby self would not have chosen that word.  Mothers who have successfully nursed likely would not, either.  But I use it because I have been schooled in the real life way that sitting in a classroom and reading textbooks can never provide.

When I became an expectant mother of twins, smarty-pants-me was going to ubermom all over the place nursing those babies when they arrived.  Reality check.  My boys were preemies, I had post-delivery complications, and in the end all I could do was supplement their formula with a collective 30 ounces of the “good stuff’ a day.  And that was after pumping fervently for six weeks to the tune of drops each time until my milk finally came in.  And THAT was only until the boys were 5 months old; then I threw in the modesty towel as my little guys fussed and cried the whole time I sat on the couch to pump and wasn’t able to play.  ENOUGH.

We were lucky to have a wonderfully supportive and understanding lactation expert at our local hospital.  Online the support was conditional.  I was openly chastised for “not trying hard enough” to put breast milk on the table.  For a hormonal, sleep-deprived woman that comment was the twisting of a proverbial knife.  It was unfair.  Didn’t they know I was pumping and attempting a latch-on with each baby before we gave in to formula feeding?  And this was numerous times a day (and night)?  I was exhausted.  We (and not just my sons and I but my husband as well) wanted and needed a better bonding experience.  My babies deserved a “present” mommy and I was a “pumping” mommy, spending time with an annoying, honking machine over engaging in valuable bonding time with my boys.  Once I realized this, I painlessly tossed the pump aside.

When my daughter arrived, breastfeeding was cautiously on the menu.  She was term, I was healthy and, with my believing in second chances, she and I gave nursing a go.  She latched on the first try, when she was barely an hour old.  And there was no looking back.  Sore (me) and fussy and reflux-y, (her, until my milk came in) at first, we became a great team for a full 12 months.  And it was wonderful:  the antibodies, the nutrition and the bonding experience, the whole ball of wax.

It seems obvious to say we learn from our experiences but I feel I had several epiphanies from the two very different situations our breastfeeding journey lead me and my family.  I held onto the sting of comments from successful nursing mothers for way too long before I came to understand those words were the words of women without breastfeeding struggles.  In fact, they are probably women who are super-producers, who store gallons of breastmilk in their freezers and can end up donated what their babies cannot consume.  Women obsessed, but still great, giving moms.  Their comments are now under the bridge, in the past.

I also realized, that if I ever return to practicing medicine, I will approach the topic of breastfeeding with realism.  Giving women the black-and-white advice on nursing when it can be a gray area does new moms and their newborns a disservice.  Of course, the facts still stand that breastfeeding is superior for the reasons we all know but I would add to that the caveat that mother/child (and let’s not forget dear old dad!) bonding is the penultimate goal.  If attempts at nursing make for a struggle and frustration for either mom or child or both, it may not be the best thing.  Do skin to skin while bottle feeding.  Formula DOES work.  If you don’t believe me, I’d be happy to send you vital stats of my sons:  they were barely 5 and 5.5 pounds at birth and now these 8-year-olds are the size of 12-year-olds.  They excel in school.  In short, I would tell moms-to-be “Breast is best, but formula quashes frustration.”  And to moms like me, don’t assume that if nursing wasn’t successful the first time around, that it won’t be the second time.  Breastfeeding could become, as we often hear, “the most natural thing in the world” with subsequent babies.

So, with this change of heart, how much of my cute organic hat should I eat?  It does look mighty tasty….