Have I Become a Breast-feeding Nazi?

One of my best friends is pregnant, single and scared.

I've been talking to her through her process and tried to let her know that she is a suitable mother, despite the fact that she keeps complaining and saying that motherhood is not what she was born to do (I don't think anybody does, but specifically for her, I never thought she was going to stay childless forever)

But within all our conversations, I've found myself pushing her into breast-feeding. I've been very insistent with it and, even though she says she'll "try", she's not convinced at all. Says it's not her "hit".

And then I realized I was becoming one of those Nazi mothers that want to impose her own ways into others. And for women that work full time and think the best place for a baby is daycare,  it can push you away from them and you can end up being of little to no help.

Then I sat and wondered why I was being so pushy. I have never told her "it's the best for the baby" or "you would be a bad mother if you didn't". I'm more for the "it's best for you" and "the baby would be fine anyway, but breast just makes everything so much easier".

But the fact is, yes, I have gone way above the Mexican standards with my kids, mostly for convenience and practicality, but I do believe it's the best for the baby. And that's when my own life comes into play, that's what I'm really trying to keep them from: baby me.

I was born in the most artificial environment that there is. Evicted 10 days before due date for no medical reason other than ensuring "no labor would occur" and having been deemed "perfectly healthy", I couldn't have brought more problems to my mother if I had tried.

 And it all started with the breasts. I latched, I ate, there was milk. Too bad milk was just too much and my feeding needs were 10 days behind. As a result, my mom acquired Mastitis and got very, very sick. OF course, being a doctor, it never occurred to her to seek help, to manually remove the milk (she tried a nasty pump that would stimulate her even more and not get a drop out) or to feed me on demand instead of a rigid 3 hour schedule. It was 1970s Mexico and natural mothering was for poor country unsophisticated women.

What happened afterwards was a series of unfortunate events from which I barely survived, and not without lifelong consequences.

My mom got antibiotics, I was given a bottle and started giving back whatever came in. Yep, turns out I am one of those babies that were intolerant to cow's milk protein. Since we're talking about way before hydrolyzed formulas, somebody suggested soy. Well, it stayed in, so our adventure began. 2 months into it, it was clear that I was not gaining any weight, I had severe respiratory problems and I needed to be moved to a cleaner city. Still had to wait 4 months for that to happen (my mom had to keep working while my dad got his first paycheck).

The series of illnesses and diseases that happened in that period, and the 8 months afterwards is so big that I cannot name them all, but apparently, I don't need a lot of vaccination: I'm already immune (well, I had a measles shot, and got the disease the next week). Viral and bacterial infections became the norm, and within 6 months after birth, I had only gained one pound. I survived on having been a "big healthy baby" from the start. My immune system was so weak that germs had just targeted me and made my body their favorite habitat.

Then another doctor recommended ultra-pasteurized milk, which was new at that time, and it stayed in. Finally I started to gain some strength and weight, but infections did not stop for another 6 months. Turning 1 year of age, and after 6 months of breathing better and getting real food, I started to be a normal child for the first time. But I wasn't growing and my energy levels were still low. I would go to daycare, come back and sleep all afternoon and evening. Wake up, have dinner and sleep again.

2 years later, my father nailed it. A TSH test was done and a diagnosis became evident. My thyroid had stopped working. Of course, knowing the problem leads to treat it, and thanks to a magical pill I have become a healthy adult, with enough energy to deal even with 2 little monsters and a sick husband, work at home and even wash diapers. But at a high cost. I've been taking medications all my life, and it will stop the day I die.

It was much later on in life that I found out there is a huge link between soy and thyroid diseases, and there was even a study correlating soy fed babies with early hypothyroidism (that several sources say it was not conducted properly). My parents always told me it had been one of the multiple infections I had had. But even if that was the culprit, why did the germs not attack other organs, or why other organs resisted attacks better? Yes, I had a genetic disposition, but it was supposed to happen when I turned 40, not before I turned 1.

My parents feel that I blame them for it. How could I? They have taken care of me always, even now. I have no resentment whatsoever for them, specially since I know she tried. I still question the doctor's call to have a programmed c.section at 38 weeks when I was obviously not ready to come out, but that was common practice with a prior c.sec. Maybe that's why I waited until 41 weeks to evict Tiny Guy from the womb.

Certainly, there are several options now for intolerant babies that do not involve soy, which has been discouraged. My dad recommends rice milk before hydrolyzed, it is cheaper and healthier. But it is no breast or comes close to it. There are no antibodies, no allergy protection, no micro-exposure to allergens, no cannabinoids, no oligo-saccharides to help the intestinal flora grow.

Maybe that explains my pushiness. I don't want other babies and mothers to go through what my mom and I went and have gone. Not all diseases can be avoided, not all situations can be prevented. But breast does reduce the probability of them happening in your own kids, so, for easiness, for convenience, for fashion or for fun, give breasts a try.

Celebrating the World Breastfeeding Week 2013 with a Clogged Duct.

Today is the last the of the World Breastfeeding Week 2013. I didn't even think about that 90 minutes ago when I realized the pain on my right breast was not going to go away on its own and Tiny Guy was going to sleep for the rest of the morning. The flag was raised. Clogged Duct.

I am a very fortunate mother that has had the blessing of nursing for quite a while. Little Guy was weaned at 2.5 years due to my advanced pregnancy and 3 months later Tiny Guy was out and around, and drinking lots of breastmilk. In all that almost 3.5 odyssey, only once had I had this problem before, that time I didn't know the name of it, the remedies or how long it would last.

I remember latching Little Guy and having him nurse to no avail, he would be satisfied and I would still feel as if he had not nursed at all. Plus, my breast did not look engorged, but felt like it. After a painful 2 hour non-sleep in the middle of the night, I did what every wife with a wonderful man should do: I called for help.

My husband got me up and threw me in the shower, gave me the head and asked me to point it to the breast. Whatever it was, it needed water and heat. Then he went and asked Mr Google what was going on with me. Eventually the symptoms gave him the answer.

Of course, he was on the right path with the shower, and I was too with the extracting. The problem is that Little Guy was almost 2 and only nursed in mornings and nights. I had to have him help me. Invited him to do it at every occasion, skipped lunch, cooked things that he doesn't like much, anyway, he nursed all day long.

I was fearful of mastitis, I always am. Thanks to it, my mom stopped breast feeding me after only 10 days, and the unfortunate chain of events that took of make my first year's survival a miracle. Clogged ducts need attention immediately to avoid an infection, and unless the pain is unbearable or the fever reaches a high point, it is better to stay home with the baby and hopefully somebody else (I have my disabled husband that painfully can take care of me sometimes)

Between the frequent nursing, manually extracting before the nursing and the heat applied, it was gone within a day. I've been a hard advocate for manual extraction ever since, I think that's why it only happened once with Little Guy (and now once with Tiny Guy).

2 hours ago, I got up, drank whatever was left from a water bottle (with Little Guy's help) and manually drained the breast. It was not much, maybe an ounce, but it did a huge difference. At least the pain is resting. 600 mg of Ibuprofen later, the fever is coming down and the shivers with it. I may be able to sleep for the next hour, with my milk bottle ready for another discharge and Tiny Guy ready for another feast.

Remember. If it happens to you, drain, nurse, drain, nurse. Drain before every feeding, hot showers, heat and pain killers will help getting you through the day.

Co-sleeping Makes Me Sleep

I was raised in what Occidentals would call the "traditional" way. I don't know where all these weird traditions come from, but it is how most my friends and family were raised too.

I was not breastfed, I slept in my own crib since day 1 and in my own room since I turned 6 months. I was transported in a stroller, born via c-section and tied to a schedule.

I turned out OK. I have 2 wonderful parents that not only love me and my siblings like crazy and keep providing and helping us, even as adults. They also love each other more than anything else. I am very fortunate that I still have 2 healthy parents living together and always willing to help.

But my health did not turn out that great. Even though I am in good shape, my thyroid doesn't work, I have arthritis and hypoglycemia. According to my parents, those problems were unavoidable. Still, before turning 1, I got every sickness on the manual, had to be moved out of Mexico City due to respiratory problems and did not gain height or weight in a really long time.

One other problem I always had was lack of sleep. I would spend hours and hours looking at the ceiling, reading, wondering around the house. I woke up at 7 am every Sunday when everybody else was sound asleep and even wrote poems about my insomnia in my teenage years.

All that came to an ending when I got pregnant. I noticed I was falling asleep on the Subway, watching movies, driving (don't do it please)... That was the most obvious pregnancy sign.

But then the baby came out. I had been raised to think that they had to go to the moses basin and then to their own crib. I had everything ready and... his first night on the house was living hell. He woke up some 5 times. I would nurse him, he would go back to sleep and wake up 30 minutes later.

By the third night, I was so exhausted that when he woke up at 5 am and I wanted to wait half an hour to feed him (according to the "schedule"), I brought him to bed, and the three of us passed out for 3 hours!!

All of a sudden we woke up at 8 am, refreshed and happy. I told my parents what had happened and my dad just said "NO". I felt so guilty I tried for several nights to fix that terrible mistake, only to realize that the only way we would get some rest was sleeping the three of us together.

Then a friend of mine sent me Dr Sears' Baby Book. It was an awakening. I saw the "converting" and the "sect" part of it and took things with perspective. But I found a validation in my every night sleeping routine and started doing it without guilt.

Later on I discovered a fantastic ability: the art of sleeping during the day. I had never been able to master such a craft. Naps were never part of my agenda, I had always been deprived of sleep, because if I had not done it at night, it would just never come and recovery was never on the horizon. Better yet, I could put my baby to sleep with me. It was not what my dad told me: "sleep while the baby sleeps or you won't have a chance" but "if you want to sleep, take the baby and make him sleep too".

I'm a much healthier human being since I became a mom. I don't recall when was the last time I got a serious cold but it was more than 2 years ago. My boys have never been sick, they don't know the meaning of it. I don't know if breast feeding and co sleeping has anything to do with it, but I can safely say that it has been a pleasure to have two babies that sleep through the night from the start, nurse while sleeping and keep going. It works for our family and has saved me countless sleep hours.

So if somebody tells me that it will take a lot of effort to get my boys to sleep in their own bed, it will never equal what I have saved. And yes, Little Guy likes sneaking in some nights, but mostly sleeps on his own by now, effortlessly.

The Tag

When I found out there was a little bean on the way, I didn't mentally prepare myself to it, I didn't start shopping and I didn't make a plan.

I assumed the deal was done, I had seen plenty of babies in my family and taken care of them. I knew what they needed and it seemed to be only one way to do things. I also was pretty broke and trying to get only the basic things. I kept making my list smaller and realized how many things babies don't actually need.

Then Little Guy came. He twisted my world around in 2 days and made me realize I was going to do things my way, and not my family's. He wouldn't sleep in his bassinet, and I started co-sleeping just because I needed to rest and it was the only way. I felt bad, I felt I was spoiling my kid for life. Then I got across the famous (and infamous) dr Sears' Baby Book and that opened a whole new world for me. I saw the "cult" inclination on it and tried not to fall for it, but found there were different ways of approaching parenthood and that what I felt was right was what counted.

But I also discovered the other side of the coin. A group of moms that do things the other way and try to claim that theirs is the only one. They will snob you if you don't co-sleep, don't breastfeed til they children are 5, and don't wear your baby. And I found there's a war between these 2 types of parents and that they will urge you to take a side, and tag yourself.

So, what's my tag? I think I belong a little more to the co-sleeping extended breastfeeding cloth diapering  type, but I do have a deep respect to moms tagged in the other spectrum, and to any mom that manages to rise any human being into a healthy respectful adult, regardless of the method.

But more than being tagged in that group for all the "benefits" of doing things the way I'm doing it, I should be tagged into the "easy lazy mom" group. I do things the way I do because it makes my life easier. Taking care of a baby in any situation will turn your life around, and we always try to rest and have breaks. So no, I don't co-sleep because of the great bond, I don't cloth diaper because of the ecology and I don't breast-feed because of the antibodies. I do those things because they are the easy choices according to my own situation and my own lifestyle.

So I may need less things than other moms, or more, to that effect. Realistically, all babies need is food, love, a place to sleep and a way of dealing with their mess. So feel free to buy all the extra stuff because it makes your life easier and because it's awfully cute. I won't tell you what to buy or not, I will only tell my experience with the stuff I have. (Oh, yeah, you didn't need my approval in the first place)

Being a parent is a learning process that never ends, my best advice: enjoy the ride.

The Hand-Expressing Queen

Totally out of cloth diapering...

I am the queen of hand expressing!!

It surprises me how many breast feeding advocates chill down when I bring hands into the picture and how intimidated they are. Apparently, it's ok to allow a machine that is nonsensitive and rude to touch and suck our breasts, but a sensitive hand that can feel where the milk is and gently squeeze...oh no! that's taboo.

Well, I use my milk for a lot of stuff besides feeding my baby. But more than that, this ability has been a life saver. It makes nursing way more fun and much healthier.

Did you know that I only once had a plugged duct? and that it only lasted a day? yep, hand expressing helped tremendously  I would empty my breasts and then give them to my toddler to suck so that the obstruction would come out.

But I'm not here to showoff as an autoproclaimed queen that has been able o squeeze 13 ounces in half an hour. I'm writing this to help.

The most important thing you should know about getting milk out of your breasts is to never squeeze the nipple. The second most important is that milk won't come out if there's nothing there. Never attempt to squeeze when you're empty. The third is that you need to "open the faucet" to let  the milk out.

So, numbers one and two seem very silly and not so important, well, they are, but still, one is plain textbook technique (holding the breast with the whole hand, place the  thumb and index surrounding the aureola and squeeze) and number two is plain logic.  So let's focus in number three.

How to allow milk out when there's no sucking? for me it's so easy I don't even think about it. But for some women it is complicated. I keep thinking my mother would have nursed me for longer had she known this technique and my first year of life would have been way less eventful.

So, here go some tips:

1. Try doing it when you get your shirt wet. We all open our faucets at one point, that's why nursing pads were invented. Try running to the bathroom and squeeze some out in the sink. Don't stress yourself trying to find a sterilized container, that will come later when you are more familiar with this. Right now try to relax and remember the feeling of getting the milk out so that you can emulate it.
2. Try doing it in the shower. It happens to all of us, we're taking a bath and the shower liner starts having tiny drops that become white. Exactly, take advantage of that situation and start squeezing out some good stuff!
3. Try doing it while nursing. Our little ones are the best faucet openers, they do it naturally. I think you can recall tons of times in which you wished you had another baby for your free breast, and the more the baby sucks, the more your blouse gets wet on the other side, although this can be complicated and you need a container just for the mess itself, it can be done, believe me, the pain will go away faster and you'll have a much nicer time once the other breast is empty.

Some people say you need to think on the baby or imagine him sucking, that may work, but for my perspective, it's easier to imitate the faucet once it's open than trying to open it on your own.

Yes, I do collect my milk, a lot. No, I'm not necessarily asking you to get rid of your pump. Whatever works for you the best and makes your life easier is what you should use (which is why, in fact, a lot of moms bottle feed). My goal here is to give you a tool that you may need sooner or later, due to a shortage on energy, a trip or a working situation that doesn't allow you to bring a pump or use it. In my case, it has saved me not only hundreds of dollars in pump + accessories, but also my sanity and my nursing experience.

Feel free to contact me or leave a comment if you want to try it and need help.

Childbirth and its controversies

Most cloth diapering moms are in the wave of home birth and anti pain medication. Well, I'm not one of them.

Just as I don't do cloth diapers for environmental reasons, I think it's great that you can have your baby at home, but it's just not for every mom and not for every occasion. C-sections are awful, painful and well, a total nightmare, but in my case, they were just unavoidable. Maybe that's why (or due to my family history) I never considered the posibility of delivering my babies at home.

Both stories are very similar. The difference being, one had 20 hours of labor, the other didn't have labor at all. Still, I believe I did the best I could under the circumstances. Let me explain.

For some unknown reason, pregnancy is set to be a 40 week endavour in which you should never reach that magic number. I don't understand why. If you do some research, you would find that the magical number is actually 42, and even that number could be surpassed.

So what does 40 mean then? the answer is in the question, it's a mean, an average between 38 and 42, which is what more than 90% of normal pregnancies last.

But when you are big as a planet and have MD parents putting pressure on you, 38 becomes already a too late ordeal. When those parents live abroad and have to make accommodations to come and help, a 4 week span is just way too long. Targeting it to be there just when the baby wants to come out becomes practically impossible.

In any case, with my first child, I was so exhausted by that magical 38 number I almost induced it. But then, my parents arrived 4 days later, and I had just stopped working. The result was that I, for once, rested and spent most of the day laying down. Not having to stay standing made the rest of the pregnancy tolerable, so I decided to wait until the baby wanted to come out.

It wasn't easy, the stress given by my parents can drive anybody insane. According to their medical knowledge, a baby is just ready at 38 weeks and if such baby is not engaged, there's no point and a lot of risk in waiting, which results in an outrageously high rate of C-sections in the private health sector in Mexico. I picked the hospital with the lowest C-sec rate in the city and a totally pro natural approach, I did not want my belly opened, I did not want to have to recover, I did not want the post-op pain, I couldn't afford it, they were going back to Mexico and I had a baby and a husband to take care of, who was going to take care of me?

So the baby decided to come at 41 weeks. For my parents that was super late and tardy, for statistics, it's just normal. I had a peaceful labor while at home, took a long shower, laying down in the couch, making Sudokkus and timing the contractions. By 6 AM, everybody was ready to leave and I was getting the 3 in less than 10 minutes mark, so we left, no big deal. Arriving at an early hour allows you to not make any lines and be admitted immediately.

According to the resident, I had dilated 4 cm and was in good shape. Well, he forgot to mention the beautiful detail that the baby was not engaged. 4 hours later, just after I had gotten the epidural, the next resident in turn checked again. Same 4 cm and still no engaging, oh yeah, she forgot that part too! They tried a little bit of oxitocin, the baby didn't like it and I ended up with oxygen and the oxytocin taken out in an hour. Still 5 or 6 cm (ok, we have progress) but NO ENGAGING!! and they wouldn't tell. All those hours I was lying in bed, half asleep, believing my body was doing progress and the contractions were working, they were not. It was close to 7 PM when I was informed the head was all the way up, not even attempting to come down, and at this rate, it never would. The baby was suffering, the oxygen was scarce and the residents were a bunch of idiots. At that moment, the OBGYN programmed the C-section. It still took about an hour to get me to the ER with all the preparations and such (it was not considered an emergency one).

30 minutes after entering the OR, I heard my baby screaming loud and well. He was a beautiful 8 pounder in perfect shape, just with a little bit of meconium. Then the nightmare began, they take your husband and baby away and stay closing you up for an eternity, in pain and desperate. They are controling you and you cannot even move.

After that, they brought the baby to nurse when I had 2 doctors and 2 nurses on top of me, there was no space for them to pass me the baby, so my mom (very invasively) took the baby and stomped a bottle of formula on him. That was the most horrific moment ever. I missed my baby's first feeding.

I had to stay 3 days in the hospital and due to my mother's pressure, I gave in and allowed them to take the baby to the nursery at night. The pain was unbearable, I couldn't walk, was in Percocet around the clock and had control on absolutely nothing.

But, aside from that, the hospital treated me well, the nurses were the best ones I've seen and I made it home safe and sound. The baby latched immediately and I didn't have a single problem nursing him. I actually did it for 2 1/2 years.

And the recovery  not a problem. It was fast and easy, I stopped taking pain killers one week after the birth,  and was walking normally within 2 weeks. Due to the nursing, I recovered my weight in less than a month.

Was it ideal? hell no! but he decided his birthday and I wasn't rushed into a programmed induction or c-section. He decided when to come, when he was ready. I have the healthiest boy on the planet. He's never been sick.

C-sections exist for many reasons. I'm one of them. Before they were performed, the maternity death rate was considerably higher. I don't think they should be performed just as an option, I don't think the OBGYNs should perform them just to save time and not be hassled. I missed a lot, instead of being put in his mother's arms, he was taken away and examined. They got my baby under their control. But, they are neccesary, and the recovery is much faster than 30 years ago.

That very same year, 2 of my friends also gave birth in different parts of the globe. One of them went to a non medicated birth center, adjacent to a hospital and was seen through the whole pregnancy by a midwife. She ended up with preeclampsia, going to another hospital in an advanced labor stage, driven by her husband because that one was full and didn't even have ambulances available. She spent 5 days in the hospital, full of medications to lower her blood pressure and out of milk.

The other one chose a midwife to have a home delivery. I don't know all the details, but after 24 hours of getting stocked and not making progress, she finally gave in, took a cab and went to a hospital to have an emergency c-section. After those anguishing moments of surgery, she had a beautiful girl and had no problem nursing.

Seems like having chosen a hospital that was a birthing center and pro natural births but with an OR in the same floor was the best choice and my story, the least horrific of the 3.

My second child was similar with the waiting, but he never came. Due to the first c-section, they had a policy of programming an intervention at 41 weeks if no labor occurs, so I was operated again. The tension with my parents was even higher. They couldn't understand why I didn't choose to have it sooner, what was the point of waiting? the baby was MORE THAN READY.

And then my mom went on to say that I was born 10 days early and weighted 6.6 pounds. That I was ready then and waiting was risky because there couldn't be "any labor involved". That was the thinking 30 years ago with a prior c-section. And I went on and told her that I wouldn't eat enough milk, she ended up with mastitis, stopped nursing at 10 days and I was allergic to every single thing they tried feeding me with, ending up with horrible soy formula that didn't do a thing, gaining 1 pound in 6 months and mysteriously becoming hypothyroid at 1 year, likely due to the soy.

Is that what you call more than ready? Had I been ready, I would have eaten more and been saved of all the hassled that implied not having been breastfed. My second baby is as huge, happy and healthy as the first, this time I didn't allow doctors to touch me after I had nursed and asked for co-sleeping despite my mother's objections, but the recovery was much harder. Second c-sections come with contractions. It wasn't fun and it took nearly a month. But I'm fully recovered.

So, which option is better? the one you pick. C-secs aren't as horrible as home birthers try to paint them. If that's the worst I had with my babies, then I can say I'm doing pretty darn good.