World Breastfeeding Week

I meant to post this during World Breastfeeding Week (August 1-7 each year) but life was chaotic as always and I forgot to come back and finish the post. So here it is, a few days later than I intended, but that’s okay!

I was 18 years old when I first attempted breastfeeding. My oldest son had a hard time latching, I was in terrible pain, and I switched to formula after a few tearful, exhausting weeks.

Ten years later, I am typing this post while nursing my third baby. He is eight months old and still going strong. My second child weaned at 27 months old.

What changed? Was it easier to establish nursing with my second and third children? No, not really. With my second child, I had a particularly hard time with latching at first. It took several weeks for nursing to be as easy and comfortable as I had expected. It took less time with my third, I suppose because I was much more experienced at breastfeeding by then, but it still wasn’t easy right away.
I think people often assume that because breastfeeding is nature’s design, it will come very naturally. But for me and many others that hasn’t been the case. It really does take practice and patience. Sometimes it takes time to figure out a good latch and to find the most comfortable breastfeeding positions for you and your baby. Some women have trouble producing enough milk; some have issues with oversupply. And sometimes it can be frustrating!

But the benefits of breastfeeding are so worth it. Not continuing to breastfeed my oldest is one of my biggest regrets. Looking back, I truly believe we could have continued successfully if I’d had more education, support, and encouragement from professionals, friends, and family. I did have some, but it wasn’t enough.

And that is why I am posting this: to inform people of the benefits of breastfeeding and to encourage new moms to seek support. It is why I breastfeed publicly when my child is hungry, to demonstrate that it is natural, normal, and beneficial. It is why I offer friends encouragement and support when they have babies. Many new moms have called or messaged me over the past few years asking for advice or just needing someone to commiserate with them, to affirm that yes, it can be hard at first; yes, you can do it; and yes, it is totally and completely worth it.

The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends exclusive breastfeeding up to 6 months of age, then continued breastfeeding with complementary foods up to age 2 or beyond. Breastfeeding offers so many benefits. The baby receives antibodies through breastmilk, has a reduced chance of developing ear infections and diabetes, and the baby’s brain development is boosted. Breastfeeding moms benefit too, with a lower risk of breast cancer and the lovely calorie-burning perks of breastfeeding (yours truly has lost all her pregnancy weight along with another 15 pounds, thanks to breastfeeding). And that’s not all; the benefits of breastfeeding could fill a book– and many such books have been written! I recommend The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding or The Ultimate Breastfeeding Book of Answers.

Also, I saw this sign at my local breastfeeding support group and wanted to share.

Source: http://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/125/5/e1048.long

Shine

I am broken and fervently trying to patch up the cracks with good deeds so no one sees the chasms within.

This messy heart is juxtaposed with a redeemed soul, a beautiful tragedy.

I make futile efforts to scrub up my own mess but the dirt piles up continually.

But the light in the cracks and buried under the dirt and deeds refuses to be extinguished. It shines steadily, and my soul testifies to redemption when my weary flesh cannot.

I don’t need to strive to shine, because he is shining for me.
I don’t need to strive to clean the mess, because he has cleansed me.

Pinterest and Faith

I’m embarrassed to admit that I easily get distracted by Pinterest. If I’m not careful, I can spend way too much time pinning crafty ideas, creative party themes, and organization tips. Look at all those beautiful pictures and fantastic ideas! Look at all the things I could do, all the things I want to be.

But after a few days of Pinterest, I get depressed. The truth is, I know I’m gonna end up wasting a lot of time finding examples of things I want to do, but very little time actually following through with any of them. Occasionally I will stop and look through all the pictures, lovely snapshots I’ve collected to represent the person I want to be, the life I want to have. And then I will go back to my everyday life and put very few of these ideas into practice.

I wonder if sometimes many of us do the same thing with our faith. We go to church and discuss the Bible with other people– lovely scriptures that paint a beautiful picture of who we could be as God’s redeemed– but do we put those things into practice? Or are we simply collecting snapshots and ideas of what we want to be, without putting nearly the same amount of energy into living them? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Words that look very nice stenciled on a wall, words that sound lovely when discussed in small groups of believers, words that will change us and the people around us if lived in our daily lives.

I want to stop musing over all I could be, and start being. I want to spend less time dreaming, and more time doing… less time discussing and more time living. 1 John says, “Let us not love in word or talk but in deed and truth.” It is so much easier to talk about faith and to discuss how it should impact our lives than it is to actually live it.

What Doesn't Kill You...

Have you ever looked at your life and realized that it is not what you had hoped it would be? Maybe it’s your relationships, your finances, your career, your circumstances, or something else, but you look at where you are compared to where you hoped you would be by now, and you feel a sinking feeling deep inside.

This isn’t what I expected.

This isn’t what I wanted.

I suspect we have all been there in some form. There is a feeling of despair and hopelessness that can come with the realization that you are only getting older, and your life isn’t what you hoped it would be.

I’ve been there myself. The past year has been one of the most challenging years of my life. I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant with our third child, several major things broke down and needed expensive repairs, we’ve struggled a lot financially, one of the most supportive people in my life (my mom) moved 8 hours away, I did a lot of solo parenting because my husband went back to school on top of working full-time, we had a new baby, our oldest two children are currently going through some (expensive) evaluations and therapies, and I’m looking for a job.

Whoa. That is a LOT, and none of it is where I expected to be at this point in my life. At times, it has felt so hard that I desperately wanted to give up, crumble under the weight of it all, and sink into despair. I lived in that place for months, feeling as though I was barely dragging myself from one day to the next, wishing that things could somehow be different.

But recently, as I sat on the couch nursing the baby and thinking about life, something changed inside me. I realized that through all the stress and the challenges that have been thrown my way, I am emerging as a stronger, more capable person. Yes, I still sometimes fall apart and sink into despair, but I don’t have to stay there. I can mourn the loss of my expectations, take some time to recharge from all the stress, and then get back up and keep going. I look back at who I was just one year ago and I can see clearly that I have changed, and I am still changing.

I’m becoming more patient, more understanding, more independent, more assertive. I am stronger than I once was. Things that would have stressed me out terribly a year ago aren’t such a big deal anymore. And I suspect that the things that stress me out so much now may not feel so difficult another year from now.

I am not helpless, no matter how hard it gets. I can choose to sink into despair in the face of new challenges… or I can rise to the challenge, fight back, overcome, and in the process be changed for the better.

The choice to sink or rise is mine.

And I choose to rise.

Let's Get It Started

For several years, I have thought of myself as the type of person who has a hard time finishing things. I told myself that I go into projects excited, then when the newness wears off, so does the excitement, and then I have trouble finishing what I’ve started. But the older I get, and the more honest I am with myself, the more I realize that my biggest problem has nothing to do with finishing; actually, when I get started on something, I am pretty much bound and determined to see it through to completion.

No, my problem is with getting started in the first place. You see, I feel an enormous amount of excitement over new ideas and plans. I’m starting to wonder if perhaps I have mistaken this initial emotional high/excitement for “getting started.” I have a propensity to go over an idea in my head, dream big dreams, then get bored and want to move on to something else. Problem is, I haven’t actually started anything!

And actually, I think saying that I “get bored and want to move on” isn’t entirely honest. No, I’m not usually bored; I’m discouraged. I get all excited about an idea, start projecting way into the future, come up with grand plans– and then reality slaps me in the face. These ideas and plans will take money I don’t have, time I don’t have, abilities I don’t have, resources I don’t have. The excitement fades, the plan is shelved, I get discouraged, and I move on to something else.

This is part of the reason I struggle with getting started. The obstacles seem totally insurmountable. Even if I try to break a plan down into small, manageable steps, it usually doesn’t take too many steps until the huge obstacles pop right back up. I cannot magically produce money or time or resources. Combine that discouragement with my perfectionism and my all-or-nothing tendencies… and yeah, it’s really no surprise that my biggest struggle is with getting started on a plan. I get stuck at the point where I have to make the leap from dreaming to doing.

I’m not sure what the solution is here. I just know that I don’t want to keep dreaming and never doing. I am sick of just thinking and talking, but (for one reason or another) not acting.

Death and Life

I’ve been thinking about death recently. I’m only 28, so I more than likely have many years left to live. But what if I don’t? Young people die every day. Cancer, car accidents– these are not uncommon occurrences. I have cried many, many times lying in bed at night thinking the unthinkable; what if one day my young children are left motherless? Will they be okay? Will they be able to move forward? Will they remember me? And how will they remember me?

And then the thoughts of death turn to thoughts about life. Do I make the most of it? I don’t mean in the “every moment is an adventure” kind of way; obviously there are many mundane, common moments in everyday life. But overall, as a general pattern, am I living in the moment? Am I truly present with my children? Many times I am only partially present; I am physically there, but my mind is a million miles away, thinking about hopes and dreams, planning for the future. And of course there is nothing bad about hoping, dreaming, and planning; that’s not where I’m headed with this.

But I do think I could be more present in the moment more often than I am. I get preoccupied with whatever’s going on in my head at the time, and I have a propensity to drift into discontentment when comparing reality with my ideals,  and then it can be hard to pull myself back into the beauty of the present… listening to my 9 year old talk animatedly about his current interests, enjoying my 3 year old’s exuberance toward life, appreciating the wonder of a nursing baby.

Balance always seems to be the answer. I need balance in my life; I must find a way to dream and plan while also making the most of the everyday moments with my children. I want them to look back at their childhood and remember a mom who listened to them, who was patient and kind, who appreciated them for who they were and knew them well, who took time to read to them and take them places they’d enjoy, who loved them without condition or reserve. I don’t want them to ever wonder if they were important, appreciated, or loved– I want them to know they were. I want them to know they are.

That is the life I want to live. For the next fifty years, or for the next five– that is who I want to be.

Existential Crisis

Lately I suppose I’ve been having a bit of an existential crisis.

It’s really hit me that this is the only chance at this life that I will ever get, and the only one my children will get too. And what am I doing with it? Am I letting it pass me by? Am I doing anything meaningful? Am I giving my children what they need? Am I simply moving on from day to day without appreciating it or doing anything significant? What have I really accomplished?

Perhaps I am too young to be having such a crisis, but nevertheless, here it is. Maybe it is driven by the fact that I am officially creeping up on a “milestone” age (30). Maybe it’s the fact that, whoa, I am responsible for three children’s lives and not just my own. That still hits me like a ton of bricks occasionally, and the baby is almost five months old. Three children. That feels like a HUGE responsibility to me. Or maybe this all has something to do with the fact that the not-quite-five-month-old baby is nearly crawling. His babyhood is flying by at a dizzying speed– all of their childhoods are, really– and I wonder if I am giving them what they need, all the care and attention and love and opportunities these children deserve.

Or maybe it’s coming from having to decide whether or not to pursue graduate school anytime soon. I am in my last months that I could apply without having to re-take the GRE. So many other people and circumstances need my time and attention right now, and I am unsure whether or not to throw graduate school into the mix. But oh, how I want to go.

Or maybe it’s coming from the realization that we have reached the point where the financial demands on our family are so great that it would be wise for me to bring in an income. While the rhythm and structure of working in an office certainly appeal to me (and excite me), the prospect also terrifies me a bit. It would be a huge change from the life to which my children and I are accustomed. And change is scary, even change that could be good for my family.

At any rate, whatever is causing the existential crisis, it is here. And I face it every day. I ask myself these questions every day. What am I doing with this one and only life I have been given? What am I doing for my children in the one and only life they’ve been given?

Is it enough?

No pressure.