Bottles, Breasts, and an Open Mind

My third child was born this past June, and I am breastfeeding exclusively. My 2-year-old daughter was also breastfed. Based on this information, one might assume that my first child was also breastfed. I tried, I feel like I really tried hard, but it didn’t work out. If there is one thing that I’ve learned from my own experiences as a mother it’s that you should always be open to possibilities and never rule anything out.

When I found myself pregnant for the first time, it was always just assumed that I would breastfeed. After all, I came from a long line of breastfeeding mothers. It is the natural thing to do, so why wouldn’t I do it too? So that was settled then, I would breastfeed. One decision down, only 14,000 left to go.

A young first-time mother, I approached breastfeeding with a certain level of arrogance that I now regret. It’s the natural thing to do so it must be easy, I thought. The baby must know what to do instinctively, so all I need to do is sit back, relax, and be the milk machine. Not so, I soon discovered.

As soon as the doctor held that baby up for me to see, I was completely overwhelmed with love and the miracle of life and birth. I could not wait to cuddle and kiss that perfect little boy! We were happily getting to know one another in those first minutes after he was born, when the nurse asked, “So do you want to try nursing this little guy?” For some reason, I was stunned by this question. I think I said something like, “Um, right now? Oh, I guess so.” But to be honest, the idea of doing this in front of a room full of people (looking back, I think it was only two nurses and my husband) made my face feel flushed and my insides hot. With the way I was feeling, you would have thought they had told me it was necessary to strip completely naked and dance the hula in the hospital lobby. This was the level of comfort with which I exposed my breast for my newborn son to latch on to.

Then Gabriel wouldn’t latch on. He was hungry and routing all around, but just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. I had no idea what to do. To my horror, the nurse intervened and helped him. You would think I would have been relieved, but I was mortified. Mortified that I hadn’t been able to do this completely natural task on my own, and also that someone else had been that close to my bare breast.

In the next few days, I got to the point where the baby would eventually latch on, but not before lots of work and anxiety. The only way I could get both of us comfortable was in a side-lying position. Then, as soon as he would get the hang of it, extreme fatigue set in and he would immediately fall asleep. I was doing everything I could think of to keep him awake and eating. I was rubbing his feet, talking to him, tickling him, undressing him, anything for a few additional seconds before he conked out for good. Even when he wasn’t sleeping, he wasn’t really eating either. He’d just hang out, letting the milk flow into his mouth and then dribble out onto his cheek and chin, only swallowing occasionally. So then I was rubbing his cheek to get him to actually swallow. The doctor said he was a “lazy eater” but that as long as he was gaining weight I should keep doing what I was doing. So there I was with my new baby, side-lying, nursing, rubbing his cheek with one hand and bothering him in general with the other hand in an attempt to keep him awake and eating. Even when everything went well, it would take him a good 45 minutes before he was satisfied. Frequently, however, exhaustion would over take both of us and we’d fall asleep together. We would wake up after an hour or so and he would still be hungry… repeat process.

We continued like this for two months. Two months of basically staying holed up inside my apartment because I was trying to feed the baby practically all day long. On the rare occasions that we would venture out to the mall, I was completely and totally embarrassed if and when I needed to nurse in public. I felt like a million eyes were staring at me and there was no way I could be discreet enough. I finally decided to do what felt like the naughty thing and introduce a bottle. I was about to start graduate classes and a Teacher’s Assistantship at Arizona State, and something had to change. I simply could not disappear for an hour at a time to feed the baby, and then be ready to feed him again 90 minutes later.

I tried to pump, but I didn’t have a very good one and the resulting experience was fairly painful and didn’t yield much milk. I resorted to expressing by hand, which was not painful and proved to be more efficient, but I was still miserable. There was pretty much nothing that I enjoyed about nursing. I felt like a machine that has one main purpose and, while it’s not completely broken and undoubtedly needs to be thrown away, it doesn’t function properly either.

Sure, the closeness to my baby would be nice, but I honestly felt more of a connection just holding and playing with him. Whenever the boobs got involved my frustration level skyrocketed and got in the way of everything. I felt like I would be a failure to give up breastfeeding though. After all, it is “God’s Food” for babies and everyone says you can’t bond as well over a bottle. Besides, I am a “people-pleaser” by nature, and the idea of telling people that I was stopping just brought more anxiety. Finally, I made the decision.

The more I bottle-fed Gabriel, the better I felt. Gabriel liked the bottle, and I’m not just saying that to ease my own guilt. He was excited to see it. always latched onto the bottle right away and never had any problems. To my delight, he also took formula in a stride. I enjoyed holding him close, talking to him and making eye contact as he sucked away. We would stop about halfway through the bottle to burp and take a breather, then finish up, usually holding him on the other side for a change of perspective. The whole process took about 15 minutes (as opposed to almost an hour when nursing him) and it was great! I finally could provide nourishment for my baby without both of us feeling extreme stress. We both enjoyed the closeness during these new feeding sessions, and I kept thinking that if this is what nursing mothers feel, no wonder they love nursing. The way he would pause from eating to look up at me and coo, giving me a big milky grin, melted my heart and I fell even more in love with him every time.

The bottle brought me the joy of intimate feeding sessions and the freedom to comfortably venture out into public. It was absolutely the right choice for me at that time, and I do not regret it for an instant.

Five years later, with the birth of my daughter, I decided to give breastfeeding another try. I felt like it might be different this time around, and the idea didn’t immediately strike up feelings of embarrassment, as it had before. I approached the act with caution, because of my past experience, but also with an open mind. I held no expectations in regards to this aspect of motherhood. I would try it and if it wasn’t working, I had the bottles and formula coupons ready to go.

Much to my surprise, this little baby girl (well, at over 9 pounds she wasn’t really that little) latched on and suckled like it was her job. No problems at all. She ate with enthusiasm and purpose until she was full. We cuddled and enjoyed the closeness and connection of meal times. After I realized that things were going smoothly, I thought, “Well, we’ll probably do this for 6 months.” Ella’s 6-month birthday came and went. “I’ll wean her around her first birthday,” I thought. But she turned one and still wanted to nurse (before naps and bedtime). Everything was going well, so we continued on. I didn’t wean her until she was 16 months old and I found myself pregnant again, and although she did just fine with the change and we continued to make plenty of time for cuddling, I did feel a bit guilty for taking it away from her.

With my third baby, I am proceeding with the same attitude as with my daughter. So far things are going well with breastfeeding. Both Matteo and I are enjoying it, and so it will go on for as long as it works out.

I hope that every mother finds the joy that their baby’s mealtime can bring, whether by breast or bottle, because it is such a special time of intimacy and bonding. When making the decision of how to feed their babies, mothers need to make the choice for themselves. I encourage everyone to try nursing and seek support from lactation consultants and other mothers if questions or difficulties arise. However, people should realize that breastfeeding, while it is a wonderful thing for many people, might not be the best option for all mothers and babies and that no one has “failed” if the bottle proves to be the better option. The goal, after all, is for baby to be well nourished, and bonding can take place in many different settings and circumstances. Mothers should also know, as I learned, that each baby is different and you, too, are different with each birth. Regardless of the end choice, an open mind and willingness to own a decision will translate to a positive experience for everyone involved.

Air Travel with Babies - Tickets and Documents

So you decide to take a trip. Whether you are going to visit family, friends, or take a much needed vacation at a resort, there are several decisions you will have to make about actually getting to your destination. Flying is the quickest and most uncomplicated way to get from A to B, and I highly recommend it regardless of your children's ages. My son flew for the first time when he was 6 weeks old. Could I be criticized for having such a young infant on a plane? Yes. However, we were moving from Maine to Arizona and if we had chosen to drive I am fairly certain it would have taken the better part of 3 weeks. Sometimes you just have to choose the lesser of two evils.

I have been traveling the world with babies, toddlers and young children for the past seven and a half years. We live far from most of our family (my husband's family lives in europe and central america) so much of my travel experience has been on airplanes, and I consider myself very well versed in the art of traveling with babies.

Tickets

The first decision you will need to make is whether to purchase a separate seat for your baby or have him ride as a “lap child”, which is possible up until 24 months of age. I have done it both ways, and can honestly say that having that extra seat and being able to make use of baby’s car seat is ideal for several reasons. First, the infant seat is the safest place for baby to be, especially if the flight encounters turbulence. Second, your arms get a break and you can actually put your tray table down for a drink or meal without wearing it. Third, the space that the extra seat allows is very convenient and you won’t have to worry about trying to keep your baby’s curious drool-covered hands off the expensive oversized watch on the man next to you (who hates children, of course).

Airfare is expensive, however, and if you are not able to pay for baby to have his own seat, don't worry! I've had lap babies on very long overseas flights and it really is not that bad. Also, if there are any extra seats on the flight, and you use your best manners, the flight attendant will probably arrange seating so that you can use the extra seat for baby. If you choose to go the "lap baby" route, do not assume that this means your baby will travel for free. For international flights, lap babies normally pay a small amount to travel (taxes and fees of a regularly priced seat) so check with the airline.

On overseas flights, bassinets are usually available if you are seated in the bulk head area, so be sure to request these seats if at all possible. These somewhat primitive contraptions are a metal frame that attaches to the bulk head wall, with a leather and mesh “basket” for baby to lay in. If you lay a blanket down inside, this can actually be a nice option. It gives your tired arms a break and baby may sleep better in the bassinet than in your arms, especially if he is accustomed to sleeping in his own bassinet or crib at home. Know, however, that you will be asked to hold your baby at the first sign of any turbulence. Do not think that you can use the in-flight bassinet as a pack ‘n play of sorts. The basket part is not very deep and it would be unsafe for baby to be sitting up – it’s about a three-and-a-half foot fall to the floor.

If you are able to choose your seats when purchasing tickets, I would suggest choosing a place with easy access to an aisle and restroom. You may have to change several dirty diapers, depending on the length of your flight, and no one wants to have to awkwardly climb over people while holding a smelly baby. While I personally prefer a window seat, I always opt for the aisle when traveling with children.

Documents

Even though it seems like your baby should be able to go with you anywhere with no trouble at all, that is not the case. Thank goodness too, because if anyone could jump on a plane with a baby without any proof that the child is theirs, that would be a very scary thing! For domestic travel, whether babies have their own seats or not, you must have a copy of your child’s birth certificate. This does not need to be an original – copies are just fine. A couple years ago I completely flaked out and forgot my infant daughter’s birth certificate when flying home after visiting my family in Maine. After I almost broke down in tears at the ticketing counter because I was sure I would be unable to travel after enduring the 3 hour drive to the airport, the woman did allow us to board the plane. I’m sure it was only because my son, husband and father all gave their confirmation that this little girl really does belong to us.

For international travel, passports and visas are necessary so do your homework and make sure you have everything you need. Inquire specifically about documentation for an infant traveling with one parent (if that is the case) because some countries have laws making it necessary to produce a notarized letter from the parent that is not traveling, stating their consent for the other parent to travel internationally with the child. Also, keep an eye on baby’s passport expiration date to avoid any unpleasant surprises. My sister-in-law almost had a travel disaster on her hands when airport officials pointed out that her 3-year-old son’s passport had expired the month before. She had forgotten to check.

Many people shy away from travel with babies, but I believe it to be the perfect time. Your 3-month-old will probably be much easier to travel with than the 3-year-old he will become, and you may not even need to purchase the extra ticket, so go for it! Pack your bags and see the world!

I would choose to be your mother

About three weeks before my mother passed away, I was spending time with her in the hospital room at Brigham and Women’s in Boston, Mass. She had just been deemed “well enough” to be moved out of the Cardiac ICU and into a room in the step-down wing on the same floor. She certainly was not well at all. In fact, as she waited for a heart transplant, she was as sick as a person could possibly be. However, when you’re talking in terms of congestive heart failure and heart transplants, health is relative and you find yourself celebrating these very small victories despite the grave nature of the overall condition. Quite simply, small victories are often all you have to celebrate.

I was alone with my mother that day and was scheduled to fly back home soon. Once settled in the new room, we flipped on the television. I’m not sure if we were eager to watch a show since the ICU room that my mother had been in for a few weeks did not have a tv - I guess they figure if you find yourself in the Cardiac ICU that television is not a priority for you - or if we just craved a little background noise and normalcy in a world of invasive procedures, IV drips and constant monitoring by doctors and nurses. Either way, Regis and Kelly was on. We were only half watching until Kelly began telling a story that caught our attention. I only remember the ending of the story, which is fine because that’s the only part that truly matters to me. It was about a woman who was addressing her son publicly and said something to the effect of: “If I could choose to be one thing in this world, I would choose to be your mother.”

Those words hung in the sterile air of that hospital room and even though the program continued, time had stopped in our little corner of the world. Our grip on each others’ hands tightened slightly. We had both heard the same thing. At that moment, I understood my mother as only a mother can. In that moment, we connected not only as mother and child, but also as one mother to another. That sentiment, that if you could go back over your entire life and choose just one experience, you would choose to experience yourself as a mother, is true for me and I knew it to be true for her as well. And perhaps the most important word of the whole beautiful phrase is the second to last – the word your. I wouldn’t just choose to be a mother. I would choose to be your mother. Because any mother understands with her heart that children are not accidentally yours, but they have been born to you because your souls have somehow been perfectly matched. Your children are already part of your family, even before conception. Their birth is simply the moment that they come into the world for you to lay eyes upon them. For you to hold and kiss and cuddle this tiny being that you feel you’ve known all along and yet are just meeting for the first time.

My family was never one to speak with much emotion, and for this reason I am grateful that the universe conspired for my mother and I to hear these words together. Although the words did not come directly from her, she said them to me in her heart. I understood her sentiment and the transcendent strength of her love for my sister and me. Even though I could truthfully repeat the same phrase for myself, in that moment my heart spoke to her, “And I would be your daughter.”