The First Years Nursing Privacy Wrap
I breastfed each of my two kids for a year each. My kids were only 22 months apart so I was pregnant or breastfeeding for 3 and a half years straight. {Side comment: High-five to self!}
Breastfeeding wasn’t always easy for me. I worried, at first, my babies weren’t getting enough to eat. I worried, at first, about staying “covered up.” I armed myself with responses to offensive comments, which never came. Pumping milk at work was, at best, somewhat relaxing, and at worst, terribly frustrating, inconvenient and degrading.
But holding and nursing my babies was such a wonderful feeling. For that moment, I could provide everything they needed. The cuddling, the closeness, the bonding and the milk that usually resulted in them dozing off. Then I would just hold them, run my fingers across their tiny hands and feet, and just stare at my tiny beautiful babies. Plus I became a pro! I could nurse them anywhere at any time, which rocked.
For these reasons and more, I would do it again. Reflecting on those years, the memories are not always great, but they are mine during this World Breastfeeding Week, I’d like to share a few of my faves with you.
I remember the first latch. For my daughter, born via c-section, it was probably 30 minutes after she was born. For my son, born the old fashioned way, it was within minutes of his arrival. I am forever grateful that they nursed like champs from the very beginning.
I remember being worried that my daughter wasn’t getting enough milk because she wanted to nurse every 90 minutes or so. Our wonderful pediatrician actually listened to me, and weighed my daughter, then asked me to nurse her, then weighed her again to show me that she had eaten plenty.
I remember buying my first nursing “cape”, an awful thing that I now call the “black cape of doom.” After wearing it at a baseball game and almost sweating to death, I took to using a very light piece of fabric…. and then nothing at all. I should have burned that stupid thing. (For my son, I made my own!)
I remember my dad usually left the room when I nursed my kids.
I remember that if I wanted a picture of myself breastfeeding my kids, I had to take it myself.
I remember sitting in various public spaces, alone with my baby, sometimes covered up and sometimes not. The changing room at the JC Penney. The chair in the back corner of the library. A chair in a public bathroom. I usually felt a mix of satisfaction and isolation.
I remember the intricate logistics of scheduling pumping breaks at work. At first, sharing a schedule with several other moms for the nursing room, then having my own office with a door. I pumped and took phone calls, and worried about having to explain the weird sucking noise in the background.
I remember getting upset at Target when we had to buy the first can of formula for my daughter at 5 months’ old because I just wasn’t pumping enough at work.
I remember taking a cooler of frozen breastmilk to the University of Oklahoma Medical Center to donate to a regional breast milk bank, because we couldn’t take it with us when we moved.
But more than anything, I remember the hours and hours of holding my little ones, when I was stressed or tired or happy, and they were sick, playful, sleepy, fussy, eager, or demanding, and sharing that moment which usually made us both feel better.
For more information on breastfeeding, visit: http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/breastfeeding.html
For information on Richmond-area events during World Breastfeeding Week, click here.
About Mary Beth Cox