Mom Guilt

Sometimes the self-induced guilt in parenting is enough to swallow me whole. As a first-time mom, I constantly find myself questioning our daily parenting decisions. Is my child's brain being stimulated enough? Is she getting enough to eat? Too much to eat? When her face is wet with tears because she needs to learn to soothe herself, does it hurt her as much as much as it hurts me? Perhaps my worry is a sign of good parenting; I care enough to sweat the small stuff. Or perhaps I'm neurotic.

"Breast is best" they say, so I knew I wanted to nurse before Tory was even born. It's nutrition only I could provide her and it was important for me to eat right, drink lots of water and limit the fun stuff like alcohol and caffeine. No worries, I was up for the challenge. Battling through nasty colds without taking any medicine and pumping at work in less-than-ideal circumstances; I've made personal sacrifices to support the cause for six months now (and more if you count pregnancy, too). All in the name of motherhood and I'm happy to do it.

No one ever told me about the guilt associated with nursing, though. The books and the doctors never warned me how stressed I'd feel when demand couldn't keep up with supply. When I look at the bigger picture, I know I'm lucky for never having to deal with latching on issues or thrush as many other moms I know. So it never crossed my mind how let down I'd feel when my body started producing less and less milk. I first noticed it when Tory was 3 months old but I chocked it up to my return to work and pumping inefficiencies. I started taking fenugreek pills, ate oatmeal daily, pumped every two hours at work and drank water like it was my job. For a while, it made a difference and I was maintaining demand (just barely). I repeated the mantra "you only need enough milk to get through the next day" to myself and tried not to burst into tears every time I looked in the freezer and watched my bags of milk slowly disappear. A heavy weight pressed on my chest and I looked at my husband like he was crazy when he suggested leaving the baby for a date night ... or worse, an overnight stay without her. The horror! Every time I was apart from Tory, I worried how I'd replace the milk she'd consume in my absence.

When we started Tory on rice cereal at 5 1/2 months, I couldn't keep up with the milk madness. The thought of mixing breast milk (my hard earned breast milk!) into rice cereal which would potentially be thrown away if she didn't finish the portion nearly broke me. I came to the realization I'd have to start supplementing with formula ... if only in the rice cereal. And guess what? We did and nothing happened. Tory didn't even notice the change and I felt the smallest bit of relief.

Two nights ago, after another one of Tory's epic no-sleep nights, I cried uncle. I put Tory to sleep at her usual 7:00pm bedtime and Andi volunteered to feed her a bottle at her next feeding. My gut reaction was to deny Andi's help because it meant I'd have to get up and pump while he fed her. Then I decided I'd had enough. I quietly made her a bottle of formula and placed it in the fridge for Andi to use. If she drank formula and wasn't using one of my last bags of breast milk, there would be no pressure to get up and pump in the middle of the night. I slept from 9:00pm - 4:30am that night and it felt glorious. For the first time in forever, I woke up feeling rested. Following Tory's bottle with Andi, she slept for 5 straight hours. I'm not sure if it was the formula or because she consumed more ounces before falling back asleep but the point is, she slept. Last night resulted in the same; she slept for five straight hours. I'm sure Andi's less than thrilled to be the new Midnight feeder, but it's working.

For the first time in a long time, I let go of the breastfeeding guilt. Formula won't hurt Tory and there's room for both nursing and bottles in our world. I'm not sure why I felt so obsessive about all of this for so long but in any case, it feels good to finally breathe. I hope I can continue nursing Tory for as long as my body will allow. When it comes time to wean, I'll be okay with that too.