In the past week, a multitude of my Facebook friends’ posts have been directed at the Weston A. Price Foundation and their recent statement that homemade formulas are better than breast milk if the mother is not following the recommended dietary requirements for herself. This morning, I finally finished reading and decided that I’ll be kicking of the next few posts I have planned with my opinion on this particular subject.
Back when pretending I was nursing mama was enough and no one cared what I ate.
I grew up being told I was breast-fed. I planned to breast feed. And then, my mother died and I got my hands on her journals. In her writings she talked about how sad she was that she just wasn’t able to produce enough milk for me. She had lupus and her body just couldn’t deal with the demand of a hungry baby. So, after a few months of praying her body could provide for me, she made her own formula. She didn’t reference where she got her recipe, but she did mention several times that she was so ashamed that her body couldn’t provide for her baby. At the time, I didn’t have any children myself, but my heart broke that any woman could feel so helpless even though she was doing her absolute best despite the circumstances.
Fast forward a few years and there I am sitting on my couch sobbing because after 20 minutes of pumping, not even 2 ounces of milk was produced. Next to me is a screaming baby who, no matter what advice I have gotten and methods I’ve tried is flat out hungry. Now really isn’t the time to go into all the details of that time in my life, but in the end, we chose to purchase box after box of formula.
I will admit that I briefly considered making my own formula. I had 2 friends who made their own and their kids seemed healthy. But no matter how proud my mother was of my childhood love of Cod Liver oil, I just couldn’t do it. My husband and I chose to purchase organic formula for our little boy. It was the best we could do given our circumstances. I hated every bottle I washed and was in a far greater hurry to switch him to sippy cups than I probably should have been.
I hated the smell of commercial formula, but there was no way I was going to be able to find goat’s milk in the needed quantities (although I did search) and I certainly wasn’t going to add in carrot juice as my friend suggested. I drank a lot of carrot juice as a child and the keratinized skin on my feet still bear the orange hue in testament.
I’m telling you this story so you understand that I really feel WAPF has dropped the ball here. One of my greatest regrets of those early months of parenting is that I wasn’t brave enough to keep asking for help and be honest with how bad my situation was. I didn’t know a single person who had stuck it out through a poor milk supply (thanks a LOT PCOS 
) and because I already had several friends who had traded breast for bottle by the time their baby was 2 months old, I felt the sting of judgement whenever I expressed a desire to succeed.
Sylvi was born less than 2 years after Liam and I was determined. By then, I had joined the ranks of the Natural Parent Network contributors and drew from that support. I found a local friend who was willing to listen to me cry and help me figure out ways to make breast feeding work for us. At one point, I had either weekly phone calls or visits with a local CLC that helped keep me focused on the fact that we were conquering one feeding at a time and succeeding on a micro level. When we started Baby-Led Weaning with her, she was at a point where her weight dropped off the charts completely and added coconut milk and avocado to her day as much as I could.
Sylvi was breast fed from April 15th, 2011 to May 31st 2012. She stopped nursing the day she started walking. And I cried. I cried for multiple reasons: she was growing up. She was healthy and happy! She may have given me cause to wear my favorite pink bra again but was still willing to curl up in my arms for our snuggle time throughout the day even though she was done nursing. I cried because we made it. 13.5 months was an enormous victory for me considering the pressure I was under to stop and begin bottle feeding at 4 months due to her failure to thrive petite size. And I cried because I knew I would miss it.
I think that my issue with WAPF isn’t so much that they encourage making your own formula, it’s that they make mothers who may already be struggling with breast feeding feel that no matter what they do, they aren’t good enough. Their dietary ideals are all well and good, but no one is perfect. NO ONE. My bloggy bff, at the Farmer’s Daughter is my breast feeding hero, hands down. But if WAPF had their say, she should stop because from time to time, she wants a treat. Gasp!
Sadly, we live in a world where everyone is out to prove their way is better; to “out mom” every one else. Instead of fueling the fires, WAPF could have chosen to encourage a healthy diet in the breast feeding mothers. They could have promoted their homemade formulas as an option, not an ultimatum. We as mothers need to be compassionate and gracious toward others in the trenches. If you want to continue breastfeeding, there are resources and support. Don’t give up just because you aren’t perfect.
First thing in the morning (often before the sun is even out of bed), Sylvi wakes me up, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Sometimes, I let Matt sleep a little longer, sometimes I don’t and get him moving to work. Either way, I head straight to the kitchen and turn the coffee pot on. I get food for Sylvi and unload the dishwasher and start laundry. I read somewhere that if you spend your first hour of being awake getting your tasks done and don’t check email, you’ll find your day to be much more productive. For me, this is genius since I am a morning person. So… I leave my phone on the charger and the monitor turned off and get my tasks for the day as completed as I can by 9am. That’s the goal. I was done by 847 yesterday, 1015 today.
I go to bed with toys picked up, laundry put away and the dishwasher running. Every now and then, I skip this step and then have a grumpy start to the next day because I hate waking to a mess. When Liam was a little baby, a friend mentioned to me that I needed to learn to do my chores while he was up so that he saw that I did other things than wait on him hand and foot. Perhaps a kinder way of saying this would be to simply involve your children in the tasks. When I sweep the kitchen, both kids get out their brooms and “help”. They help me match socks and carry laundry to the bedrooms. Liam unloads the silverware from the dishwasher and both children are responsible to take their plates to the counter after meals. And if that doesn’t keep them occupied for a few minutes, I can always pull out the crayons and paper and they create for a little while.
Once I have all my tasks done… I’m free to start on the list. I make a long list of all the things I’d love to accomplish and keep at it for a week. I’ll assign things to myself in the morning and what gets done, yay! The rest goes back on the list for another time. I’m supposed to roast garlic today. We’ll see. I’m not overly enthusiastic about it. Some days, like today, I’m in the mood to do nothing extra… my house is clean, the kids are happy and I think we’ll have leftovers for supper. Every day is different!
For me, I start an idea list in the summer. Two of our nephews have birthdays in December and so we also have a birthday party to attend. On my list, I have the gifts grouped by event and when the date is known, I write that as well. Once I’m sure I know what we are purchasing for people, I write that item down and then I make an additional note: purchased/arrived/wrapped. I try to do as much of my shopping online as I can since I hate going into stores this time of year, hence the “arrived” slot. I cross each off as it is applicable.
All those shipping boxes sure come in handy since that’s what I use to separate out the gifts. Of course, I box them based on date needed and then when we are ready to leave, I just grab the appropriate box and head out the door! And believe me, when it’s a struggle to get your children convinced that a drive in the car won’t end in disaster (both kids detest their car seats), any bit of easy I can get is right up my alley!
