Here it is, my very first blog post. I’m sure there are grammatical errors along with spelling errors. To be honest I’m just too tired to proofread. I’m excited about this new adventure.
Today my 2 year old spilled a freshly pumped 5 oz bottle of breastmilk. Heart dropped. My eyes started sweating. Lump in my throat. It didn’t take long for the anger to build up. I overreacted. Hard. She didn’t know how hard I worked for that bottle. [I assure you after my reaction she knew…. she definitely knew after that.]
[Said spilled milk in the couch compartment completely with one of the million flower stems I’ve been given, a hair clip, and crumbs that are probably from last Easter’s green bean casserole.]
I remember the hospital stay after my first was born. The nurses made it very clear that breast was best. I killed myself for 6 months trying to feed my baby girl. I failed her. My body failed her. What was I supposed to do? My milk dried up at once. No final let down. No leaking boobs. Gone.
I tried everything. Gatorade, water, oatmeal, pumping, vitamins, even prescription medication. Breast is best so I couldn’t give up without trying everything- all to no avail. I was crushed. In turn, the hormonal imbalance sent me into extreme postpartum anxiety. It. Was. Terrible.
Fast forward 16 months and baby girl number two was born. Again, breast is best. Again, I failed. Again, I was devastated.
Fast forward 20 months after that and our surprise son was born. Again, breast is best. But this time, I choose to leave my body in control. If I happen to dry up again, I will not be devastated. I will then proudly formula feed my babe with no shame.
I don’t understand the mom shame. You’re encouraged to breastfeed but God forbid you do it in public and have a nip slip. You formula feed and you get “crunchy Cathy” giving you a helluva stink eye. As a mom, you are literally judged for eve-er-ray thing… typically by other moms. It’s not fair. We are supposed to be a tribe, but rather often act as enemies. What gives? Do we need to get Crunchy Cathy, Silky Sally, and Get Over Yourself Gretchen to a potluck for a kumbaya song?
At the end of the day, we will all cry over the spilled milk- whether it’s breast milk that you worked hard for or it’s the formula that cost a fortune. Mommin’ ain’t easy. All the babies gotta eat. Do what is best for YOU and YOUR baby. We are all just trying to make it through these times with some sort of sanity. Might as well cry over the milk together.