How Breastfeeding Saved My Life

I'm excited to bring you another guest post, submitted by Star a WIC breastfeeding peer supporter and gentle breastfeeding advocate.  Star shares her story of the unexpected impact breastfeeding had on her own health and indeed her life.  I am honored to be bringing you this guest post and appreciate Star sharing her story.

I’ve addressed before how I’m sort of the reluctant lactivist who originally thought she wouldn’t breastfeed.  I talked a lot about how and why I changed my mind, and the struggles I faced to nurse my first.

But there was one crazily unexpected benefit that I didn’t discuss.

Rewind a few years to when I was 25, and pregnant with my first daughter.  I had a very high risk pregnancy.  Part of this was because I was classified morbidly obese.

If you just met me today, you probably wouldn’t think such a thing.  In fact, at 6 months postpartum with baby 2, and still carrying around an extra 10-15 pounds, I’m still within a very healthy weight range for my body frame/height.  In fact, people have been known to call me slim. 

But this was me then:

I was, at the end of my pregnancy with baby #1, slightly over 300 pounds.  Granted, I’m tallish for a woman – but not tallish enough that that much extra weight was even close to ok.  I’m also asthmatic, severely – so carrying that weight was a huge burden on my health in many ways.  I didn’t worry about it until I got pregnant.  And then one day, while looking at my chart, I saw the words “morbidly obese” notated there.

Those are NOT fun words to see on a chart describing yourself.  Like, at all.  Especially when you think of yourself as more like “attractively plump” or “large, but well-proportioned.”  But those two words are pretty effective at drying up denial quickly.

So I had my daughter – by c-section – something that I’ve always wondered if my weight had an impact on.  And then I thought about how I didn’t want to be the fat mom who couldn’t run around with her kids, or was the butt of their friend’s jokes, or anything like that.  And I certainly didn’t want to die young – which was a very real possibility with some family history and my obesity.  But I had literally no clue how to change things.  And I was having those aforementioned issues with breastfeeding and my daughter, which, quite frankly, made life too stressful to even attempt a lifestyle change.  So I put it off.

Then something pretty awesome started to happen.

Little by little, my jeans were looser.  My face was thinner.  I could button jeans that I’d only dreamed of buttoning in the past. 

“Well,” I thought, “I probably just lost a little more after the pregnancy.  No big deal.  It won’t continue.”

But it did.  And I bought new clothes and weaned off one of my asthma meds.  And I hadn’t done anything differently. 

It was 60 pounds later when I stopped just losing weight by existing.  Let me repeat that – SIXTY pounds.  Sixty.  Six Oh.

At a routine checkup, my doctor said, "So, what are you doing differently?"

"Nothing," I told her.  "I think I have a tapeworm or something.  Can you check for tapeworms?"

She laughed at me and flipped through my chart.  “You’re breastfeeding?”

“Yeah.  Is that ok?  Because, seriously, I’m not completely joking about the tapeworm thing.  Can tapeworms go through breastmilk?”

She shook her head at me.  “Your weight loss is likely caused by breastfeeding.  I highly doubt that you have a tapeworm or anything else wrong with you.  I can run a blood count if you’re really concerned that you have something wrong with you, but I see this a lot with breastfeeding women.  The weight just kind of melts off.  That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t make changes to become healthier overall.  But this is a good start.”

I took that to heart.  And, yes, I did eventually have to work out and eat better foods and all that jazz to get to a good place, weight wise.  But breastfeeding kick started it.  And that kick start gave me the confidence to continue it.

Star after breastfeeding her first baby

I'm sure some of you will scoff at the notion that breastfeeding saved my life.  However, I don't think any doctor would argue that being morbidly obese sets you up for a whole slew of life-threatening ailments.  And when you add in all the *other* health benefits of breastfeeding too, well, it no longer seems like a stretch. Not to mention the 60 pounds it helped me to lose, it’s really probably not that far off from the truth.  Breastfeeding saved my life.

The author today, healthier, happier and breastfeeding her second baby.

A Note from Jessica

I love Star's story, it is beautiful, inspiring and full of hope and I am so honored to share it here.  Breastfeeding educators have long shared how breastfeeding can help a woman lose weight and recently the New York WIC caused a stir with their breastfeeding campaign that focused on weight loss as one benefit of breastfeeding.  This isn't a reason to breastfeed in and of itself but it is a potential positive benefit from breastfeeding and a dang good one at that.  At the same time it is important to note that not every woman will lose weight while breastfeeding and some, like myself, may even hold on to some extra padding until they wean.  Even if that is the case, breastfeeding still has so many other wonderful effects on mom and baby that it is worth continuing.  Be encouraged that either way you breastfeeding is wonderful for both you and your nursling!  To your health!

All in a days eating- Guest Post on 3 Moms and a Kitchen

I like food.  A lot.  With a family of 7 we eat a lot of it too.  Fortunately, though you may think all I do is talk about breastfeeding, I cook and I enjoy it... most of the time.  So I was honored to be asked to guest post over at 3 Moms and a Kitchen this week.  Since I couldn't pick a recipe to feature I decided to do a sampling in a day's worth of cooking for our family.  One of my favorite breakfast recipes that's done and ready to eat when you wake up, an iron boosting, protein packed dip for snack, a carrot salad that's a hit with our entire family, and a dinner straight from France, these are recipes are a big hit every time.  Hope you enjoy!

Love and Nutrition At My Breast

Today I am thrilled to have Cindy share her breastfeeding journey with her 4 children and the way it unfolds with each baby and how the whole family becomes involved.

The author, Cindy, nursing her son Alex at about 3 months old, 2002.

I don't remember ever seeing a woman breastfeed during my childhood and teen years. I must have been aware of the existence of breatfeeding, though, because I asked my aunt if she was planning to breastfeed her soon-to-be-born baby when I was 12.

She was about seven months pregnant, and she and my mom were talking bout the cost of formula.  I piped up. "Why don't you breastfeed? It's free!" She looked shocked and said, "Oh, honey, I couldn't do that!"

A few months later I was with her after the baby was born. We went to the store to buy formula without my baby cousin; a baby cried in the next aisle and she soaked her shirt. She was mortified, but all I could think was, "well, looks like she could breastfeed. That's a lot of milk!"

I now have four children; my oldest is 8 and a half, followed by a six-year-old, a four-year-old and my youngest, who is three months old. Three boys and a girl. Let me tell you my favourite nursing memories for these amazing children with whom I have been blessed.

My oldest child, Alex, learned to sign as a baby, and his favourite sign was the one for milk (we used it for nursing.) He would run to me, little fist out, fingers pumping in and out, mouth open. I loved that. He would kiss and cuddle my breasts often.

Cindy nursing Alex after his baptism, Feb. 2002. 

"I was 24 years old in this pic with my first baby, and so proud I was BFing!"

When he was about six months old, he and his daddy made up a breastfeeding game. Alex would latch, and Clayton would pretend he was going to steal the other "baba." Alex would immediately cover my other nipple with a hand and grin. If Clayton made it near the breast, he would laugh and push him away. They would play this until I kicked them both off my chest.

Alex once completely undid my shirt buttons at a restaurant when I wasn't looking. He wanted dessert, I suppose.

Isaac, my second child, was cuteness personified. As a baby, he would pat and caress the beast as he nursed. Once he was older, he showed his good manners by often offering the other breast to his brother or other children, the way you would offer to mix a drink for a friend. (Um, no thanks, Isaac, I'm not a milk bar!) He had a great sense of humour even as a baby, and would often try to nurse upside down as a toddler. When he learned to walk, he treated me like a drive-in, and always wanted to nurse while standing up.

Isaac at about 5 months, in the sling.

As a toddler and pre-schooler, Isaac "nursed" his dollies.

My pregnancy with Naomi, my only daughter, was not normal; I had hyperemesis gravidarum, a rare pregnancy illness that causes severe, unrelenting nausea and vomiting. I felt betrayed by my body during that pregnancy; breastfeeding started the healing process for me. My body could nourish my baby. It could work properly. I was not a failure.

Naomi at birth.

The first time I breastfed her, I was in the recovery room after my C-section, and the nurse had never seen a mother nurse ten minutes after surgery before. But my husband was holding her, and I was alert, so she was game. Naomi learned to latch perfectly; the nurses dragged new moms into my hospital room for days afterward so I could help them with latching.

Naomi was fiercely possessive of my breasts. They were HERS, and no one else better touch! Nowadays, she just wants her own set.

Edward was born in May, and is the only baby I've ever had who has baby fat and rolls upon rolls. After three slim babies, I'm amazed my breast milk can do that. Eddie has also been eager to teach me I don't know everything. He is the laziest latcher ever. EVER. He will open his mouth into a rosebud and expect me to stuff the nipple in. Um, no, Mr. Man. Open that mouth.

Edward's first latch!

It's funny how breastfeeding a new nursling brings back forgotten memories of the others before, I had forgotten that funny sound of expectation babies make as you get the breat out, the "ahuh, ahuh, ahuh" just before you offer the breast. I forgot about the funny satisfied sounds, too, as they drink the milk, "hmm. hmm."  Nursing Eddie means I can relive it all again, and remember my big kids when they were tiny and helpless and got their love and nutrition at my breast.

It also means the older children can watch exactly how well-loved they were as babies. It's funny, breastfeeding is so normal for Alex that he will get right down and kiss Eddie with his own head touching my breast, and he doesn't even think about it. Giving my oldest son these memories of breastfeeding is gratifying. I know that if he has children one day, he will support and love his wife as she breastfeeds, and think nothing of that, either.

The Best Laid Plans

Today I'm so pleased to get to share this guest post from Maureen Alley, a regular on TLB Facebook page and forums. A real life story of making plans, seeing them change and learning to adapt. Struggle, hope, reality, and support all play important roles in her tale. We need to hear more stories like this, I hope you love it as much as I did! Maureen originally wrote this for a blog contest on Mommypotamus and I appreciate the opportunity to share it here and as always, if you have something you'd like to submit for a guest post just e-mail me at theleakyboob@theleakyboob.com.

I had a plan. I had a couple different plans, actually. There was one for the year leading up to getting pregnant—switch to organic foods and all natural soaps and lotions—and there was a plan for during the pregnancy, which was all about glowing, gentle yoga, and cute maternity clothes. I had a birth plan too, of course, which involved no drugs, perhaps a water tub, and a general celebration of birth and my body’s abilities. I also had a plan for after the birth day, which was a bit vague. (I knew it involved breastfeeding, but I didn’t think much beyond that.)
Everything was going according to plan, right up until about the tenth week of pregnancy. I had a blood test that showed elevated levels of hormones, which hit my internal panic button. In an effort to allay my fears, my OB sent me in for an ultrasound. My husband and I were waiting anxiously to hear the confirmation that our baby was ok, and there was nothing to worry about.

“Do twins run in your family?”

I didn’t think much of the technician’s first question. I figured it was routine, something she asked everyone. So I answered, “No, why?”

“Because I see two babies in there!”

At first, I thought that exhilarating news meant the end of my best-laid plans. My OB began tossing around words like “elevated risk”, “c-section”, and “prematurity”. I realized that I had two choices: I could acquiesce to her plan for me, or I could find a way to create a better reality for myself and my babies. So, I signed up for a natural-childbirth class, fired my old OB and found a new one, one who had conversations with me instead of talking at me.

I attended my childbirth classes, Le Leche League meetings and kept practicing yoga. I befriended a midwife, and collected positive twin stories. I got acupuncture, prenatal massage, and super-fruit smoothies. I visualized the birth I wanted, I talked and sang to the babies who were stretching my womb and my imagination. I woke up every day of my second trimester smiling and rubbing my burgeoning belly. My original plan was altered but still basically intact.

Because my husband and I decided to stay within the medical establishment, I also saw a perinatologist. He was a specialist in caring for mothers of multiples, and he won my trust with honest answers to my copious questions. So when Dr. M dropped the “b word”, I listened. Bed rest?! Bed rest would ruin my hope for an active pregnancy, but I decided to plan for it accordingly. I squared away everything at work, found a substitute for my class, and checked up on my short-term disability policy. I honestly thought that if I worked so hard at preparing for bed rest it would never happen. However, right before I hit 24 weeks, I was put on modified bed rest due to a structurally unsound cervix.

I was devastated at first, but I decided to roll with the punches and enjoy the quiet weeks I had before my babies arrived. I had a lot of weeks to go, but I truly enjoyed my first Friday of bed rest. I rested, reflected, and fidgeted. I was feeling “off”, but attributed that to the fact my professional life had just ended for awhile and I was anticipating being bored. I spent that Saturday turning and readjusting myself on the couch. I was irritable and short with my husband. When, around seven pm, I started cramping in my low back and getting a feeling of heaviness in my uterus, I called my midwife friend. I explained how I was feeling and she told me to go the hospital. Really? Well, if the midwife-who-hates-hospitals tells you to go, you go.

Once at the hospital, getting hooked up to a contraction monitor was the first step in a nightmarish journey through pre-term labor. I learned all about—and experienced—terb, mag, and the chilling dread brought about by a visit from the neonatologist who told us what to expect if our boys should be born so devastatingly early. At this stage, all my energy and focus went inward, to convince my body to keep those precious baby boys on the inside. They were not done cooking, and I was determined to let them finish.

For the next ten weeks I stayed still, literally and figuratively. I prayed and bargained and hoped against hope that we would make it to 38 weeks. I kept up the visualization, but after every subsequent visit to the labor and delivery floor, every new plunge of the needle, every time I hooked myself up to the home contraction monitor, I grieved for what I was losing. I knew I would not have a peaceful drug free birth. I had lost the pregnancy I wanted, but I still had my babies, and for that I was grateful with every fiber of my being. I clung so hard to that fact that I didn’t allow myself to feel much else.

Just before I hit 34 weeks gestation, I had to go back to the hospital. Never in my wildest dreams did the drugs not work. All of my imagined scenarios told me that if I had to be readmitted, the magnesium sulfate would work and the contractions would stop. This time, they did not. I was delivered of my babies on February 9, 2010 at 2:07 and 2:08 pm via c-section. It was everything I did not want. The next three weeks were a blur of pain, hormone-driven despair, leaving my babies in the hospital NICU when I was discharged, endless visits to that very same NICU to see my babies, and pumping.

My mother—my angel, my guide, my support, how many names do we have for mother?—made me pump my breast milk for my babies every two hours, day and night. My supply soared, and I delivered the “liquid love” faithfully to the nurses to give my boys. I latched on to breastfeeding as eagerly as a baby to a breast. It was the one thing I had left, the last shred of my plans that I could accomplish. I was grieving the loss of the pregnancy and the birth I had so desperately hoped for. I realize that this may sound selfish or petty. My babies had been born successfully, and barring some serious reflux issues, were healthy. I had everything to be joyous about, but try telling a post-partum mom how to feel! It would have been easier to scale a mountain than regulate my feelings at that point.

Pride was one positive emotion that permeated the cloud. I was so proud of being able to pump 6 ounces per session! My husband and I learned how to feed premature babies from slow flow bottles, and we brought each of them home in due time. My babies were getting optimum nutrition, but I still felt something was missing. That something was undoubtedly sleep, but it was also a stronger bond with my babies that I was craving. Finally, one day my mom told me, in essence, to “Sit down and nurse your babies.” Their mouths were big enough at this point, and they were more than eager. By some miracle of chance, there was no nipple confusion at all. Both of my squally squirmy squeaky baby boys took to the breast like pros. Because they were! They wanted the comfort and fullness of mama’s breasts. And it gave me unspeakable joy to give it to them.

Maureen's little guys at 7 weeks, already defending their b@@b and nursing like pros!

I nursed my babies when they were hungry, when they were sleepy, and when they were hurting from the reflux. Nursing became the only thing that soothed my fussier twin, so we had marathon nursing sessions, the longest of which was four hours straight. I was a zombie shell of a woman, but my children were thriving and growing. I was a mama.

Now, seven months into this crazy adventure, I am still nursing my boys, day and night, although we are all sleeping more. My confidence grows with each day, as do my boys. I have become very adept at juggling two wiggling bodies when it’s time to nurse, and I’ve managed to accomplish tandem feeding just about everywhere we’ve been, including in the (non-moving) car and on the beach. But my favorite nursing sessions are the quiet ones at home, with both boys snuggled around me like commas. Their sighs and hums are my favorite music, and my heart melts every time one of them stirs to check and make sure I’m still there before drifting off again. The miracle of hormones, those that I cursed just a few short months ago, is that nursing makes me feel so good. The love-chemicals get released each time one of my boys latches on and they go to work, easing the tension of the day and softening the ragged, visceral edges of my memories of the early days.

I didn’t get the pregnancy I wanted, and I certainly didn’t get the birth I wanted, but I got the children I dreamed of. I got two healthy, happy boys, and I get to nurse them every day. Breastfeeding has eased my heart while providing for my children. I am lucky, I know I am. It couldn’t have worked out better if I had planned it…

Still going strong!

The Hard Work of Mothering

Today I am thrilled to bring you a guest post by Kari Swanson, daughter, sister, wife, mother of two, librarian, and member of Generation X who is also known as BookishMama, a moderator on The Leaky B@@b forums. Kari blogs over at Thoughts from BookishMama and I've enjoyed reading some of her recent posts particularly related to breastfeeding.



This photograph was taken in 1936 by Dorothea Lange. Another photo called “Migrant Mother” taken by the same photographer of this same mother is probably one of the most famous photographs in American history, documenting the effects of the Great Depression.

The mother in the photograph was 32 years old when this photograph was taken and she and her husband had 7 children, including this little baby. She was photographed in a camp for migrant pea pickers. According to the photographer’s notes the early pea crop had failed and this family was destitute and had to sell the tires off their car in order to buy food.

Why am I posting this photo? I am posting this photo, because for me it exemplifies a hard working mother and a mother’s hard work at the same time.

Mothering can be hard work. Living at the beck and call of an infant, having no time to take a bathroom break, and getting little to no sleep for months, or even years, on end is hard work. Raising children requires dedication, organization, selflessness, empathy, creativity… the list goes on. All of those traits and skills and more are required of mothers whether they spend 24 hours every day with their children or not.

Kari took this beautiful photo while breastfeeding her daughter.

There is no such thing as a part-time mother. Once you are a mother you are a mother all day, every day for the rest of your life. All mothers, whether they have jobs that take them away from their children for periods of time, operate businesses in their homes, work outside their homes with their children on their backs/hips, or stay home with their children every day, are all full time mothers.

Let’s all be sensitive of what it means to be a hard working mother and to do the hard work of mothering. We are all doing the best we can and what we think is best for our children. Some of us choose to stay home with our children. Some of us choose to work. Some of us do not have choices either way. The grass may seem greener on the other side of the fence, but it’s really pretty much the same grass in different locations.

(PS This photograph is in the public domain. To read more about the photograph go to: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/fsa1998021556/PP/.)

I'd Like to Make a Withdrawal, Please

My friend Karen is such an incredible mother, giving everything she can for her daughters. Her story brings tears to my eyes and reminds me why I pump and donated my milk. I am honored to be bringing you this guest post.


Breast is best, and natural they tell me. Breastfeeding is apparently what these boobs I have been burdened with since a young age are made for . . . but my boobs didn't get the memo. After working through some issues, I tried to breastfeed with my second child. But they would have none of it. There were three fundamental problems: 1) no milk, 2) faulty design and 3) lack of support. This led me with only 1 option, I had to make a withdrawal from the local milk bank.

I spent the entire first trimester of my pregnancy hooked up to an iv to sustain bare minimal hydration and nutrition thanks to a pregnancy disease known as Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG). There were times when it took 5 nurses 8 attempts in over an hour to get an iv started. They called in the big guns, the nurse they sweared could ALWAYS get an iv started. Ah, but my body, it was bound and determined to foil even she. So finally they put in a port, sent me home and a nurse came to my house every 3 days to check it and change the location if needed. My wonderful husband set his alarm clock for 3 a.m. so he could wake up and change my iv bags. In my third trimester, I was hospitalized another 3 times for extreme dehydration. So it shouldn't be surprising, but it was emotionally devastating, when I tried to breastfeed and simply couldn't. Apparently, in basic math terms, 9 months of extreme dehydration=no milk.

The faulty design problem became apparent when it turned out there was no nipple for the baby to attach to. A lactation consultant was called in to, well, consult. She walked in, tore open my hospital gown with no announcement or, better yet, permission and declared, "yep, you have flat nipples." Nice. Since I had given birth the day before Thanksgiving, everyone seemed more in a rush to make pies than to help a struggling mother so their basic advice was to pump as it would help bring the nipple out and the baby could create a latch. So I sent my husband to the store and he bought a pump and we were on our own for the next few days.

So here I was, trying to breastfeed and my days went something like this: Feed the baby for over an hour, because she wasn't really get any milk. Pump for two hours, and get half an ounce. Feed the baby for over an hour. Pump for two. All I did was feed and pump, pump and feed. And cry. Remember that excellent husband I mentioned above, here he made a misstep. One day as I cried about it all, he suggested that maybe I was doing it wrong. Or was, in subtler but no less stinging words, a failure - and maybe I should just give up.


Our pediatrician wrote me a prescription for a medical grade pump, which failed to deliver on its promise quite frankly. And the lactation consultants, there is apparently only one in our county, failed to return the messages I left over Thanksgiving weekend. We were, as they say, winging it - and quite unsuccessfully at that. Then, the unimaginable happened, my baby developed severe GERD. There were frequent trips to Children's hospital (seizure like episodes, apnea that resulted in her turning blue) and the recommendation was that we try changing formulas (we were supplementing as we tried to navigate our bfing nightmare). In the end, we had to use an amino acid based formula to minimize her symptoms that she is quite frankly still struggling from at 20 months.

In all of this, I did a ton of research, which is where I stumbled upon the idea of a breast milk bank. What a glorious idea I thought. I wanted my baby to get the health benefits of breastmilk but couldn't deliver traditional, but now there appeared to be a nontraditional way for me to help my baby get what was best. So I called the nearest big city hospital and due to my baby's feeding issues it was determined that I would qualify to purchase breastmilk with a prescription from my doctor. My doctor was a little more fuzzy on the idea: He was worried about sanitariness. And of course since my baby appeared to have food allergies, well - that was a different concern. But in the end we all agreed that I really, really wanted my baby to have the health benefits of breastmilk and it couldn't hurt to try.

Well, it did hurt my pocket book. Donor breastmilk was almost as expensive as the amino acid based formula I had to buy. In the end, we could only afford to give her 1 6 ounce bottle a day for about 3 months. But, they say that a little is better than none and I hope that is true. My secret hope is that the antibodies from the breastmilk helped to make her food allergies less severe. I will say that despite her incredible issues with food (I mentioned she has incredible issues with food, right?)- she has had no other types of illness. No flu. No colds. No croup. A couple of ear infections that didn't require treatment, but that was more than likely from the food allergies.


Since donated breastmilk from a hospital bank is pasteurized, there is some question as to how the antibodies compare to unpastuerized breast milk. But again, I am going with the some is better than none theory unless science comes back and tells me differently. I have heard that some moms are able to get donated milk from someone they know that is unpasteurized making this a moot point. I did the best that I could do for my baby - and I hope that other moms will have the opportunity.

To tell the truth this isn't really that bizarre of a concept - when the Earthquake in China killed many of its citizens a couple of years ago, one of the stories that came out was about how one woman breastfed some of the orphaned babies to keep them alive. Imagine the generosity involved in giving not only of your nutrients, but your time and body in this way.

I am very thankful to the women that donated breastmilk to the bank I used. And now I encourage everyone who can to do so. There are many medical reasons why a woman may be unable to breastfeed, and donated milk can help their babies get the gift and benefits of breastfeeding. Do research to determine where a milk bank near you is and sign up to be a donor - it was such a blessing to my family, and it will be to many more. I am not the only woman who is looking to make a withdrawal.

The Tardy WBW 2010 Perspectives blog-carnival wrap up

"Why are you always on the computer now? I thought we were going to do something special while Earth Baby and The Storyteller were at camp?"

Lolie's beautiful blue eyes were wide with expectation, waiting to hear what had to be a good answer from me.

Lolie, 7 years

Generally, I'm very careful about my time and protect the routine for me and my children. Though I'm not attending births right now which does make it a little easier, when I am, knowing it could be thrown off at any second means holding onto whatever rhythm I can is crucial. That, and I like to really be with my kids. Whenever I get really busy I hear the words to Harry Chapin's Cat's in the Craddle spinning through my head. Since I don't want that to be me, no matter what it was I was doing, I strive to find a balance.

Looking at Lolie and knowing the answer to her question the frustration of having just lost the carnival post full of links and information suddenly melted away. In the light of Loli's frustration with me not being available I realized that my explanation of "It's World Breastfeeding Week and I'm running a blog carnival and lots of give-aways!" sounded weak to even my grown-up mind. No way my 7 year old was going to give a rats' rear-end about World Breastfeeding Week, young lactivist though she may be. I had promised cupcakes and her sisters had been gone for 3 days already.

So, dear reader, I closed my laptop. Quite frankly, she matters more than a blog carnival, she matters more than World Breastfeeding Week, even. I knew you all would survive and were probably busy with your own lives on a Saturday. And I knew you would understand. Though I no longer comfort or nourish this child at my breast, I do comfort and nourish her with my time and attention. We curled up together, lap top pushed aside, with a book we had started and read for an hour. We painted toe and finger nails. We turned on Regina Specktor and danced like crazy. We played wii for hours- something we never permit in our normal family rhythm- and she profoundly creamed me in Mariocart. We went out to a fancy-shmancy frozen yogurt boutique. We said farewell to her god-parents for the next 3 months until they come home from London for Christmas. We made lactation cookies. We sighed and giggled after sliding around in socks on the hardwood floors. We built towns of blocks with farms and watch-towers. We set-up the slip-n'-slide. We attended a ball in our living room complete with play silks and gowns and danced to Rachmoninov's 3rd piano concerto. We drank iced tea out of china tea cups because with the summer Houston temperatures we didn't want hot tea. We watched a movie and I didn't even multi-task, she cuddled with 3 of my girls. We went to the thrift store and found cheap treasures. We hit the grocery store and planned a fancy dinner. She reveled in being the biggest big sister and not a little sister. As my helper, she took charge when needed and entertained a tired, melting-down Squiggle Bug for us to make it through the grocery store. When I sat down to breastfeed Smunchie she asked if I needed my computer. I told her no, I just needed her and she beamed at me, grabbed a book and got as close to me as she could without knocking Smunchie off my lap and breast and she read me a story about a boy with a loose tooth. After finishing her story she stroked Smunchie's fuzz and asked me if she breastfed like that. I told her yes she did.

People, it was good. It was better than a 1000 comments on any post ever.

Lolie, 7 years old

And I realized something. The most important thing I did for World Breastfeeding Week was step away from my computer and spend time with my daughter.



So now I bring you the late finale to our blog carnival.

The Piano Man managed to squeeze in some time to write some of his thoughts on breastfeeding; Mammaries... I mean, Memories. I'm not actually sure when he did it, honestly but when he read it to me I teared up. He shared a memory of seeing his mom breastfeed his little sister and I have now made a mental note to write or call my mother in law to thank her. Again.

Our second guest post is another beautiful and moving story. We've had so many this week and I'm thrilled to share another that is honest, inspiring and full of a mother's desperate love. Breast Nurturing: A Relactating Story.

I've really enjoyed all of the bloggers that participated in the carnival. There were new-to-me bloggers and some I've been reading for a while. I hope you found some to follow, their voices offering unique perspectives on life that both challenge you and help you know you're not alone.

Re-Normalizing Breastfeeding: A first step for life-long health- Looking solely at breastfeeding from a health perspective, Kirstin muses about the long term impact of breastfeeding vs. formula feeding. Kirstin is mother to one with another on the way, she says she's learning to be a little crunchier everyday. She blogs at My Belly Blog.

Happy World Breastfeeding Week!- A personal journey that leads to discovering the joy of breastfeeding. I so appreciated Laura's honest telling of her breastfeeding experience, ups, downs, and in betweens. Laura is a SAHM who throughly enjoys catching bugs, splashing in the pool and eating popsicles with her 16 month old son Aiden and I just love the title of her blog: Blissed Out Baby.

Swimming Upstream- Becky didn't see a lot of breastfeeding before she had children and entered breastfeeding her son pretty much alone. Her story and dreams of a world where breastfeeding moms have support is inspiring. Becky is a wife and mom of two little ones, striving to keep order in her home who is enjoying her new found hobby of blogging... somewhere in the desert.

So It Has Been A While. Your Point?- Alex's hubby hijacked her blog and wrote a great post sharing his thoughts on breastfeeding! Hearing from men on breastfeeding twice in one day is a perfect way to ring out World Breastfeeding Week, don't you think? Even if it is a little late.

Our children's art project, Perspectives: Breastfeeding Through Children's Eyes was planned to wrap up tomorrow but to give more time for more submissions (and we already have so many great ones!) we're extending it through the rest of the month. As August is National Breastfeeding Month this is a fitting time for kids to be creative about breastfeeding. Send submissions to theleakyboob @ theleakyboob {dot} com.

Hope you all enjoyed the blog carnival. I'd love to hear which blog posts and guests posts touched you. Leave me a comment sharing what encouraged, inspired and connected with you from this week. Thanks you all for a wonderful World Breastfeeding Week celebration and I hope you understand why this wrap up is tardy.

Loli holding the Rollie-Pollies that earned her nick-name.

World Breastfeeding Week- TGIF!

Random, funny French ad using breastfeeding to sell their beer.
B@@bs are used to sell beer all the time these days but it sure doesn't look like that now!

Squiggle Bug doesn't believe in sleep any more. At 2.5 years old she has figured out how to run on pure energy. I'm jealous. I haven't had time to really do my own blogging. Because, seriously, I have to at least attempt to sleep once in a while even if Squiggle Bug is dead-set against The Piano Man or I actually getting to sleep.

This blog carnival is intended to be open minded and thoughtful, to encourage dialogue and view breastfeeding from all different perspectives and experiences and I secretly (now not-so-secretly) hope that will be a spring board for viewing and discussing the rest of life. It's also supposed to have funny moments. Don't think there is much room for humor when it comes to breastfeeding? Check the blog name. Only someone that has never has sported two wet circles perfectly positioned on the chest of their top with milk that came from their own body or has never had a baby dive-bomb their chest with an open mouth or had a toddler screaming "MY BOOBIE!" could think that. Trust me, there is room for humor. There has to be. It's a carnival hosted by The Leaky B@@b and if The Leaky B@@b can't do humor well then, we're screwed.

Talk about a perspective! A really kind Leaky shared this photo with me to demonstrate how she tandem feeds her twins while co-sleeping.

So I finally got something out. There are so many different perspectives I could give on breastfeeding so I shared 4. And just so you know, if you know me in real life and you bring up any of those perspectives I will deny every. single. one. Except for the Easter dress poop one, I photographic evidence of that.

Other blogs today have a wide spectrum of perspectives, visit and let them know you're stopping by from The Leaky B@@b checking out different perspectives on breastfeeding.

Perspectives: When "Natural" =/= "Easy"- I knew I'd love this post from the first two lines. "Hi, my name is Star, and I used to think breastfeeding was disgusting. I like to think of myself as a breastfeeding success story." When Star isn't chasing her toddler or nursing her infant, she works as a peer breastfeeding counselor, blogs, and spends time with her fiance. She blogs here.

The Joys of Breastfeeding Past Infancy #17- Once again, NursingFreedom.org brings a charming and informative post to the carnival. NursingFreedom.org was cofounded by Dionna of Code Name: Mama and Paige of Baby Dust Diaries. NursingFreedom.org is dedicated to normalizing breastfeeding and advocating for breastfeeding rights. Please follow NursingFreedom.org on its Facebook page to connect with other mamas who are passionate about breastfeeding advocacy.

Postpartum OCD Part 2 of 2: The Mom Who Couldn't Stop Logging- Postpartum depression, breastfeeding difficulties and OCD, Anne invites us to journey deeper into her experience, sharing a perspective as debilitating as it is hopeful. Dou-la-la is written by Anne, doula-in-training, birth advocate and a moderately crunchy mother.

Breastfeeding and Early Intervention- A professional that works with children birth to age three in her state’s Early Intervention program, Susan gives us her perspective working with the families in need of her program's services. A mom of 7 children, she provides support to families with special needs children drawing on her training and her own personal experience with Early Intervention for 3 of her own children. She has enjoyed the roller coaster of different breastfeeding adventures with all of 7 of her kids and is currently nursing her youngest. Susan blogs at My Breastfeeding Journey.

Our guest post today talks about breastfeeding and one's faith and how this influenced one mom of 3. I hope you enjoy The Way of The B@@b from Jessi, an American Taoist living in China doing her best to parent her children naturally.

There are still give-aways going on and even some more to come: Kate Hansen prints and PumpEase Prize Pack.


Amber submitted this drawing done by her 8 year old step-daughter Kate and had this to share about it.

"[This] is of a woman sitting in a chair breast feeding her child and being happy about it.

Kate was very curious about when I started breastfeeding her siblings, and asked a lot of questions about how and why. When her mother had another child this year Kate told her very matter of factly, that her new sister should have the "Boobie Juices" cause that was what is good for the baby, and not those phooey bottles.

Kate is very proud to tell people that babies should have breast milk and that our 2 kids have it making them really smart.

She is very smart herself, and she cracks me up!"

World Breastfeeding Week- Thursday!

Squiggle Bug

Squiggle Bug is walking around the house calling for her toilet, like it ran away or something. I find this confusing.

What does that have to do with World Breastfeeding Week? Nothing, nothing at all. Except as evidence that I do actually think about other things than breastfeeding. Like toilets. And poop, but you already knew that.

Are you a crafty lactivist? Lisa once again offers up a neat embroidery design for breastfeeding mom with iLactate! Free download and if you give it a try share a pic please!

From tube-fed to boob-fed- Becky found reality to be a little different from the what she had dreamed when she imagined having a baby but she wouldn't change it for the world. A daughter with a rough entrance into the world and facing special needs starting out with tube feedings. But this is a breastfeeding story. Becky writes about ferself: "I am a mom of a very special little girl who is nothing what we expected, but loved more than we ever imagined. She is my full time job, the love of my life, and she blesses me daily with her ability to do more than anyone ever expected!"

Breastfeeding and Bible Study: WWYD?- It was a sticky situation, one woman feeds her baby at a Bible study and the hostess finds out that another woman is too uncomfortable with breastfeeding to continue attending. What would you do? Dionna writes about natural/attachment parenting and life with a toddler (soon to be preschooler) at Code Name: Mama. She also cofounded NursingFreedom.org, a site dedicated to normalizing breastfeeding and advocating for breastfeeding rights.

World Breastfeeding Week- "All I can say from personal experience is 'just do it!'" Journalist and solo mom to two, Olivia writes about WBW and her experience breastfeeding from the get go and out and about. Birth, pregnancy, breastfeeding and reproduction issues are the theme for her blog Write About Birth.

An Open Letter to My Alma Mater- Sadly, we know that many doctors and nurses receive less than adequate education on human lactation but what about those studying biology? I love this letter Abbie wrote to her Alma Mater concerning her education in lactation as a student of biology. Abbie is a wife, mom, teacher and environmentalist who was raised on my family's farm. She likes to cook from scratch, garden, craft, read and write in her spare time.

Not a planned part of our carnival but I'm going to point you all in the direction of Dou-la-la again, she has an informative post regarding the dangers of early supplementation and one reason that is often overlooked.

I'll have guest posts and give-aways up today plus Happy Hour on The Leaky B@@b Facebook page again. We've had lots of fun. Be sure to enter the PumpEase Give-Away that closes on Saturday.

Natural Pure Essentials has a special 10% discount just for The Leaky B@@b readers with the code leakyboob. Find Safe Sippy, cloth diapers, safe sunscreen options, and other natural parenting items for all your needs. The discount is good through Saturday and thanks to Navine for helping make World Breastfeeding Week a time to encourage all moms.

Don't forget about our Children's Art Project with Paper Mama to benefit Best For Babes Foundation! Send in your child's creation about breastfeeding and help support this great cause, one piece will be selected for note cards and the winner will receive a set of their own.

It's been a great week and we have 2 days left. I hope you're enjoying the different blogs, guest posts, give-aways and offers. I'd love to know how you have found ways to honor World Breastfeeding Week, comment and share here. Thanks!

World Breastfeeding Week- Wednesday!

Color pencil drawing by Shallanee, age 6.

It's Wednesday, hump day. There is no possible way on earth that I can say "hump day" and really only think "oh hump, as in the middle of the week... just going down to the weekend from here!" No. Say "hump day" and I giggle like a jr. high boy thinking of the time I saw the bears getting it on at the zoo. I am not the only one that thinks this, I know I'm not.

This particular hump day is half way through World Breastfeeding Week. The shear volume of blogs, articles, news-debacles out there for WBW is astounding. It's like lactivist are going to take over the world or something. It's kind of cool.

But there is something else extra special about this hump day though too. It is The Piano Man's birthday today. Which means it probably really is "hump day" if you know what I mean. *jr. high boy giggling goes here.* If my mom is reading this, she probably just died a little reading that I put not so thinly veiled innuendos on the internet and some of my real life friends are not going to look me in the eye the next time I see them. Or laugh like a jr. high boy. *HI SUE!*

ANYWAY...

It's The Piano Man's birthday, which is nice. But back to World Breastfeeding Week and our fantastic blog carnival (if I do say so myself- which I do because I can since I haven't written the carnival submissions myself).

Our beautiful art work in this post today are submissions to our Children's Art Project "Perspectives, Breastfeeding Through Children's Eyes." All these drawings are making my heart go pitter-patter. Aren't they beautiful? I just love them. We really need more though, please, please, please send us your child's art work depicting breastfeeding.

Mom's Milk Is The B(r)e(a)st!- More art for this week is coming from Lisa Crigger with a new digital embroidery downloadable design every day for World Breastfeeding Week. Cute and fun designs for free every day this week!

And the bloggers are really bringing it, once again.

How It's Supposed To Be- Natural doesn't always mean easy. In this post Rachel shares the path she has traveled in breastfeeding her children full of difficulties and triumphs and always love. Rachel is a busy mom to five. When she's not nursing her youngest child (and sometimes when she is), Rachel blogs at A Reservation For Six.

Postpartum OCD, A Retroactive Self-diagnosis: Part 1 of 2- "Then it all went to hell." Dou-la-la joins TLB blog carnival today with a painfully honest look back at her postpartum days and breastfeeding challenges with her newborn including a video of a stressful feed. Dou-la-la is written by Anne, doula-in-training, birth advocate and a moderately crunchy mother.

Don't Muddy Your Milk: Shame and Breastfeeding- Returning with The Leaky B@@b carnival, NursingFreedom.org takes a look at how shame impacts breastfeeding. NursingFreedom.org was cofounded by Dionna of Code Name: Mama and Paige of Baby Dust Diaries. NursingFreedom.org is dedicated to normalizing breastfeeding and advocating for breastfeeding rights. Please follow NursingFreedom.org on its Facebook page to connect with other mamas who are passionate about breastfeeding advocacy.

Nursing The Divine- I can't give a little intro for this one. You simply HAVE to read it. Whatever your faith, you will love it. GO READ IT NOW. Kate Hansen is an artist, mother and breastfeeding advocate from BC, Canada. After reading her post you should also go browse her artwork. Oh yeah... and be looking for a give away of one of her prints.

Our guests posts are once again really wonderful. Don't Ever Want To Forget comes from the heart of Alex on her daughter weaning when she was ready at 3.5 years old. A poem and reflections, you will probably cry. Our second guest post I am ridiculously proud of as it is from Earth Baby. She writes as an 11 year old girl going through puberty, big sister to 4 sisters, sharing her thoughts on breastfeeding and her future as a breastfeeding mother some day. I even hunted down some old school photos to scan in for her post.

I slacked on give-aways yesterday, the girls and I needed to get out of the house and be busy but I will try, admist The Piano Man's birthday celebrations, to get the give-aways up and going. Thanks for your patience and, er, enjoy your hump day. I know I will. *snort*

Color Pencil drawing by Daisha, age 11

Earth Baby on Breastfeeding

For our WBW blog carnival on "Perspectives: Breastfeeding From Every Angle" we are pleased to host guest posts from various contributors. Today we are honored to share a guest post from Earth Baby, sharing her perspective on breastfeeding as the 11 year old girl, oldest of 5 sisters, all breastfed.

Jessica (The Leaky B@@b) breastfeeding Earth Baby in the hospital November 1998

I don’t remember being breastfed, but I know that I was.

I am not a professional when it comes to breastfeeding, at least not since I was a baby and I don’t remember that, but I do know some things about breastfeeding: it feeds the baby; it keeps them healthy; you don’t need to hide to breastfeed, it’s natural; it gets moms closer to their babies and helps the babies to know their mom. Last week I learned that the boobies can change temperature if the baby is too hot or too cold. The mothers need to eat a lot (not to make themselves fat) to produce milk; and we all know that babies love their mommy’s milk!

I am happy that my mom is breastfeeding but will I want to breastfeed my own children? Right now I think I would but I am not sure if I will approve of it when I am older. But I think I will. The reasons why I would breastfeed are because it is safe. It is healthy for the child and the mother. In other words, why did God make breasts? Is it for men to admire them? No way! It would let the babies have a chance to trust us. I think I will breastfeed my babies because God made us to do so, so when they are close to me they can trust me.

Earth Baby and her mommy, 1999

Babies being healthy and happy makes me feel happy. They are chubby, cheerful, and sweet after being fed. Feeding your babies can help soothe them if they are troubled, or to get smiles. The best part of breastfeeding is…cuddling! I’m not sure if it is true but whenever my mom breastfeeds, they seem to be snuggled close together. I love that.

Earth Baby, a chubby, happy, breastfed baby, June 1999

Some people don’t feel comfortable with moms breastfeeding in public or around them. But I think they don’t realize that they were once breastfed. I feel completely comfortable that my mom or myself, when I am grown up, can breastfeed anywhere, around anyone, or anyplace. My mom breastfed me and has breastfed four other children ever since I was born. I don’t mind, I had to be there when my mom breastfed my sisters. I am used to it.

There is this question that has been stuck in my head for a while, what would I do if my husband didn’t agree with me breastfeeding? I would tell him that it is important to do it and I will not hide from him or public. We decided that we wanted children. I was pregnant for nine months. I did it, not him. I gave birth to our child, he didn’t, even if he helped me. I did all of the hard work of bringing a child to us. Then I would say to him that I get to decide what to feed our child because I gave birth to her/him and it is my body. If he disagreed with me and told me what to do, I would tell him, “we need to keep our baby healthy. You like to get smiles from our child. She/He smiles after I nurse her/him and you like it.” Then I would give him the baby and walk away but when she/he cries he'd want me to come back to breastfeed her/him and I would tell my husband he made a good choice.

The author today, 11 years old.

I have had my times where I am scared when my mom breastfeeds in public. I feel like I might be mocked for breastfeeding when I was a baby. I am also scared that after if someone points out my mom breastfeeding they will have a little fight with my mother and that then she will give up and I don’t know what to do. My little sister needs her breastmilk. I’m scared it will also happen to me, that people will judge me that I shouldn’t breastfeed my baby someday in public.

It seems a little strange that my developing breasts are going to be bigger, full of milk with a nipple and a baby on top of it someday. I really don’t want to have big or little boobs when the time comes, just something just right for breastfeeding.

Earth Baby

Exclusively Pumping: My Journey Thus Far

For our WBW blog carnival on "Perspectives: Breastfeeding From Every Angle" we are pleased to host guest posts from various contributors. Today we are honored to share from Beth Anne Mowery, exclusively pumping mom for her son Preston.

Before I became pregnant I had never really given breastfeeding much thought as no one in my family or I knew had done it. Once I became pregnant I bought many pregnancy and parenting books to help me prepare for the unknown that was happening to me. I read about breastfeeding and how it was so much better for the baby to receive the colostrum when they were first born. I decided that I liked the idea of breast milk, but would prefer to pump. There was not a lot of information on pumping, so as my due date approached I decided I would give breastfeeding a try first and go from there. Somehow I would make sure Preston got that “liquid gold” I had read so much about.

On the day of Preston’s birth, I breastfed him right after he was born. I was tired, he was tired, and I was anxious as any first time mother is. The nurses kept pressuring me to give him formula until my milk “came in.” I politely refused and told them he was doing just fine. It hurt so bad, I’m not going to lie. I wanted to give up, but I knew that this was something I needed and wanted to do for my son. My recovery nurse even threatened that they would take my baby to the NICU for low blood sugar if I didn’t give him formula. I hand expressed some milk into a little cup and fed him that way to prove to that nurse that yes in fact my baby was getting something in his tummy.

We bought my pump before we left the hospital because I insisted to my husband that I had to have it. It was around $300 for the pump, plus all the extra storage containers and what not to go with it, quite a large investment. When we got home I had so many visitors. Everyone kept asking if they could feed Preston a bottle. I tried to explain that I was nursing, but they all laughed and exclaimed in a few weeks I would come to my senses and he would be on formula. I did not feel comfortable nursing period let alone in front of all of my visitors, so I quietly got my pump and went to my bedroom determined to prove all of them wrong. I was going to give Preston the best thing I could ever give him, no matter how badly it might hurt. That’s how I got started exclusively pumping or EP.

I felt much more comfortable with the pump on my breasts than I did with my son. He hurt and liked to look around and pull my nipple from day one. He did not have any latching issues, but for my sanity, pumping worked better for me and he was still getting my “liquid gold.” As the days turned to weeks and the weeks became months, I learned more about breast milk than I ever thought humanly possible. Did it hurt at first? Hell yes it hurt, but that pain was for a good cause, my son. A mother will do ANYTHING for the well-being of their child. After about 14 weeks, it didn’t hurt so bad, I guess I became immune to the pain. Now, pumping is habit and I don’t know what life is like not doing it.

At first I barely got anything, but I would offer Preston what I had pumped and he took it eagerly. I tried to pump then feed him, but I discovered he was hungry a lot sooner than I was pumping. I finally figured out to pump ever 2 hours around the clock, even if he was sleeping, so I could keep up with his demands. Little by little ½ an ounce became 1 ounce then 1 ounce became 2 ounces. I now pump after every bottle he takes; it varies between 2-4 hours, but no longer than 4 hours. I even get up in the middle of the night to pump, even though Preston sleeps a solid 6 hours during the night. I am now proud to say I make over 35 ounces a day (way more than he eats). I freeze the daily leftovers for my just in case stash, but I always offer him fresh milk for his next feeding. It tickles me to death that I have been EPing for over 4 months and I am still going strong and my supply is wonderful. I have had to take Fenugreek and drink Mother’s Milk Tea to help regulate my supply. Lactation consultants are invaluable for their advice with supply regulation. Use them!!

Oh and EPing has some pretty amazing perks besides being best for baby. The biggest perks to EPing are as follows: I can pretty much eat whatever I want (as long as Preston tolerates it well) and not gain weight, his poop doesn’t smell bad (HUGE plus!!-have you ever smelled a formula fed baby’s diaper—phew!!), no stinky/staining spit-up, Preston smells great (like vanilla), have you seen a “milk drunk” baby? (That is some hardcore sleeping), the money we save is AWESOME, and finally breast milk makes babies smarter (who doesn’t want an Ivey League graduate?).

I love it when people ask me why I am still pumping or even why I do it. I take this opportunity to educate them (mostly young 20-somethings like myself) on the importance of breast milk rather fresh from the tap or given in a bottle. I even have my 16 year old cousin thinking that pumping breast milk for the baby or nursing your baby is the normal thing. She said she saw a woman nursing in public at Disney World and she told her how awesome it was she was giving her baby such an amazing gift! Gosh I was proud of my cousin for saying that to the nursing mother.

My family (with exceptions to my mom, husband, mother in law, and cousin) still think I am crazy for giving Preston breast milk. They keep offering to pay for formula if “money is an issue.” They don’t understand I want to and need to do this for Preston’s health, which it is just not about saving money. It is about saving his health, giving him antibodies to protect him, and starting him out on the right path nutritionally. I love looking at my son knowing that every roll on his legs or arms is because of me and my hard work and dedication with pumping around the clock. That baby fat is from my milk alone and nothing else. My baby is thriving and happy on my breast milk and at the end of the day that is really all that matters.

Behind the Bottle: A Caregiver’s Perspective

For our WBW blog carnival on "Perspectives: Breastfeeding From Every Angle" we are pleased to host guest posts from various contributors. Today we are honored to share from Stephanie, mother and child-care provider sharing her perspective of breastfeeding from the other side of the bottle, be it breastmilk or formula.


I have been a caregiver to many children in the past 8 years. The children come and go. Some of the children outgrow me and head off to school and some simply move away. Each child has come to me as an infant and left as a toddler or preschooler. I have seen all kinds: the hard core breast only baby, the all formula baby, and the ones that have been a mixture of both. I have answered my door with a child at the breast and seen rejection, enjoyment, and loss in the eyes of the mothers whose children I keep watch over. These are the things that I have learned.


Some mothers genuinely enjoy breastfeeding. They relish the bond and enjoy the feel of continuing to nurture their child past birth. These mothers light up when their babies are near and quickly whisk them away when it is time to go home. They don’t linger on the way home or make detours. No unscheduled shopping trips for them. They are eager to be reunited with their child and clasp them to their heart. Some of these joyful breastfeeders have trouble keeping up their supply when they return to work. I have watched and offered support to these mothers as their milk slowly diminishes and they begin to supplement with formula. It saddens them to have to supplement but they still continue to nurse whenever they are able, even if it’s only once or twice a day. In these mother’s eyes I see joy and loss when they see another woman nurse her child.


Some mothers who breastfeed resent it. They don’t understand the loss that the joyful breastfeeders feel. Weaning to them is a relief and can’t come soon enough. I have often wondered why these mothers even bother breastfeeding at all. Is it so they can say that they weathered the hardships of motherhood? The sleepless nights, the engorged breasts, the biting, the sore nipples… What makes a woman breastfeed when she doesn’t like it? Have we come to the point in society where breastfeeding is the norm? I don’t think so. And any mother who has been asked to nurse in a restroom wouldn’t think so either. Is it because all her friends did it? If that is the reason then kudos to the friends that gave her such a fine example. Is it financial? Not necessarily because most of the reluctant breastfeeders have the most expensive pumps on the market. They have all the best breastfeeding accessories and seem to flaunt the fact that they DO breastfeed. The only conclusion that I have been able to reach is that they nurse for the glory. I do not understand these mothers at all but they are out there. I do not include women who struggle to breast feed in this category. These glory hounds have breastfed easily and pumped with ease. I am glad for their children’s sake that they chose to breastfeed though whatever their personal motivation. I have found that these type of mothers are the least eager to come and get their children and the ones who most often “need a break” from the demands of motherhood.


Next are the mothers who formula feed their children. With all the evidence that is available today why would anyone choose to give their children second rate food? In my experience it isn’t because these mothers do not love their children just as much as women who joyfully nurse do. I have found that it is a mental and emotional block that they themselves have, a feeling that breasts are sexual and not to be exposed to young children. Along with this feeling there are fears of inadequacy; they won’t have enough milk, the baby won’t eat enough and will starve, their partner will find them unattractive if they breastfeed, and the list goes on and on. All of the formula fed children I have cared for are products of families that have formula fed for the past three generations. It was good enough for their parents and themselves so it’s good enough for their children. To breastfeed would be an unspoken criticism of their mothers and fathers. “Why do you have to breastfeed? You were formula fed and you turned out just fine.” Choosing how you will nourish your child has never been more complicated than in the past 40 years with the resurgence of breastfeeding.


Many breastfeeders I know are first generation breastfeeders. I have been blessed to be a second generation breastfeeder. My mother chose to breastfeed myself and all 7 of my brothers and sisters. I was her first and she fell victim to the classic myth that her milk was no good and stopped breastfeeding after 6 weeks. With my sister she had a friend who saw her struggling once again to breastfeed. Her friend showed her the trick to getting a proper latch and how to keep the baby awake so that she ate. My mother is still a passionate advocate of breastfeeding. I learned from her the joy of watching a mother and child bond together and the closeness that comes from joyfully nursing your newborn. Two of my sisters have children and they too have breastfed their children. For us it wasn’t even a question because of the example our mother had provided for us. We knew that breastfeeding was the best way to feed our babies and that’s what we did. It is my hope that my boys will be supportive and encourage their wives to breastfeed when the time comes for them to have children. It is my fondest hope that we can so normalize breastfeeding that it is the primary way that infants everywhere are fed. There is no shame in feeding a child from a breast. Breastfeeding is not something that is dirty or sexual. It is the way nature intended for us to be fed. So nurse your baby proudly and don’t be afraid to share your love and support for the next generation of breastfeeders.