Mom Enough?

I came across this article in Time magazine today.  To be more specific, I came across it as a link in an email sent to me by my mother with this subject line:

FW:  thirsty?

I bet most new moms with access to Google have heard of Dr. Bill Sears, the hippie-esque guru who promotes co-sleeping, baby wearing, and (most socially awkward of these) extended breastfeeding.  Sorry if any hippies are offended, but if you're a real hippie, you're not supposed to be reading a blog.  The article in Time follows women's decisions to breastfeed for extended time -- even breastfeeding beyond three years.  Some women argue that this way is "natural" (which is what Alicia Silverstone said about pre-chewing her food for her baby), but society begs to differ.  True, it may not always be this way, but these rogue mothers are really just drawing attention to themselves, not their cause.

Are these women showing off?  Are they proud?  Perhaps.  I can't help but wonder if they aren't really proud, but anxious about moving on.  When I found out I was pregnant, there was a sudden and overwhelming social pressure to breastfeed, both from women like those in the above article, and from nurses or doctors.  I was totally on board.  But as I always say, if you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans. 

Regardless of my intentions, I am a person of defects (shocking, I know).  When Piper was six weeks old, she was miserable every day.  I had no idea what to do, and felt like it was my fault.  My suspicion that she wasn't breastfeeding successfully came true -- at six weeks old, she was still smaller than she was at birth.  The problem was me.  I began pumping breastmilk to fortify and supplement, but only had around 6 ounces a day.  She needed twenty-four ounces or more.  

Three doctors, four lactation consultants, and dozens of unsolicited advisers later, the problem had only gotten worse.  I was hanging onto a glimmer of hope that, if I only tried this or that home remedy, it would get better.  The four or more hours I spent attached to a pump each day was time I could have been spending with my baby, or talking with my husband, or exercising and being healthy.  When prompted by my husband, I finally admitted that I was putting myself through hell because I was afraid of admitting my defectiveness.  If I couldn't succeed at the most basic child-rearing act, how in the world could I ever make it as a mother?  And I needed to be needed by her.  Weeks of making myself miserable ended in a deflated shell of a woman. 

Now, Piper is a formula fed baby.  I know I am doing right by my baby, regardless of what the critics think.  And most importantly, I know that she will still need me.  So maybe the women who breastfeed their kindergartners are afraid of the same thing I was.  They are afraid that they won't have the connection with their child that they once did, or that giving up this special ability makes them less of a mother.  Or maybe they really feel like their five-year old still needs breastmilk (less likely). 

As my sweet baby girl is getting bigger and more beautiful everyday, I know one thing for sure -- the days are long, but the months are so short.  Hanging onto a thread of infancy isn't a bad thing, but don't let it delay the future.  Tomorrow is such a beautiful thing.

My happy, healthy, beautiful 3-month old