My last post

I haven’t blogged since February and an awful lot has happened since then.

I’m in a permanent job.

Baby B is a toddler now. He can walk and say some words.

He nurses often at night to make up for the day.

I miss him when I’m at work. I don’t think working full time is sustainable in the long term.

I don’t live in Breastfeeding Utopia. I want to. Looking back I think a lot of what I wrote was very jumbled and mixed up but I think the basic premise is still correct:

Having a baby should not preclude a woman from earning money. But earning money should not mean a woman has to leave her baby in the care of someone else, if she does not want to. Women should be entitled to far, far more flexible working arrangements. These arrangements should include but not be limited to: taking the baby to work with her, working from home, working very flexible hours including evenings and weekends and even some form of arrangement where, if the mother is entitled to money towards childcare costs, and she wants to care for her child or children full time, she has access to this subsidy herself.

I also believe that, as the one who carried the baby, and the one who provides the milk, it should be the mother who has first refusal on whether she wishes to be primary carer. If she does not want this role, the father, or mother’s partner should have second refusal and the flexible working arrangements should be extended out to him.

I say the above because I’ve read a lot recently about how (in the UK) maternity leave for women should be cut from nine months paid to six months paid for the mother and three months for the father in order to stop discrimination against working mothers (who are apparently unemployable due to them constantly taking long maternity leaves and leaving poor little businesses in the lurch). I do absolutely believe in extending paternity leave – and extending it drastically. But not at the expense of maternity leave.

It should be made possible for mothers to look after their child or children on their terms – without plunging them into poverty and without entailing huge financial sacrifices.

I haven’t mentioned mothers who want to do paid work in the traditional sense where they work “office hours” and their child is left in some form of childcare. Only because the many problems faced by these women are more “visible” – at least it seems to me – within the feminist sphere. But I don’t want to be all “misty eyed” here and believe that all mothers would want to be with their children “twenty four seven” if it was suddenly arranged that they could do this AND combine it with paid work in some way (home working, working with baby at work, working evenings when baby in bed etc.) Perhaps because the job is too dangerous to have a baby with her (e.g. emergency services) or because she just plain doesn’t want to.

And for these mothers other options should be of the highest possible quality. Does the father / partner want to take over the role of primary carer? He should be as enabled to do so as the mother would be and the mother should be enabled to provide her milk as easily as possible. It would probably take even more of a cultural shift for us to accept a father bringing his baby into work in a sling as he sweats over the accounts, for example, or chairs a meeting, but that needs to happen.

If the father doesn’t want to take on this role either then we should be enabling grandparents, relatives, close friends etc. to take on this role wherever possible. A constant presence in the baby’s life; constant attachment figure. And where this fails – paid childcare should be of the highest possible quality and provided on a one to one or one to very few basis, where the baby or child has access to one person as s/he grows; a nanny, or childminder, or if a nursery, one with an incredibly small staff to child ratio, where each child is assigned his or her own personal carer, and staff retention is high and turnover almost non-existant.

But in these cases, where a parent is not the primary carer, working hours should be such that parents do not miss out on too much! Forty, fifty, even sixty-plus hour weeks are not conducive to a good family relationship! But cutting parents’ working hours down would lead to them being heavily discriminated against in the workplace. Why can’t we cut everyone’s hours? We have the 48 hour working time directive (which most employees are forced to opt out of anyway); why not 40? 37.5? 35? Even 30?

Imagine how full-term breastfeeding and gentle parenting would be aided by all of this. Imagine how society itself would be improved.

People will say – particularly of the idea of taking a baby / child into work – “but you’d never get anything done! Think of the distraction! No one would take you seriously!” and much more – and I say, what was said when women first entered the workplace?

So that’s me. I’m moving to a new blog I think but I’ll leave this one for “posterity”. Bye!

I’ve been away so long… but now I’m back

I’ve been so busy!

1. I’ve had to succumb and return to work. As I don’t live in breastfeeding utopia, I’ve had to leave baby B with his Nan. That’s right, my mil. But she’s not been too bad with him at all; there’s not much babywearing going on but there’s lots and lots of play and tactile comfort, plus the baby-led weaning is still continuing and going well. I pump while I’m in work for him and he gets plenty of solids & water plus a bit of milk while I’m in work; at home he breastfeeds often; he is also a milk vampire and feeds constantly at night!

2. I’ve been busy with my peer supporter stuff; I’ve graduated now (hurray! lovely day where we received certificates from the Mayoress of St Helens) and three of us (me, A & K) are starting up a group on Saturdays in our local SureStart children’s centre.

3. Dh hasn’t been well. He has been diagnosed with a central serous retinopathy in his right eye… which is bad enough by itself, but his left eye is a lazy eye. Sadly we weren’t getting anywhere with the NHS so we went private for the diagnosis … it looks like he’ll have to have an operation, although we can get this on the NHS.

So you can see I’ve had a lot to contend with – apologies for my absence but I will try to pop back a lot sooner next time!

Breastfeeding Utopia – part four preamble

The next post is going to be a big one. I wanted to write out a post for the “BU” series that really exemplified what I thought “BU” would be like. I particularly wanted to cover the issue of returning to paid work.

This is an issue close to my heart at the moment as I can’t afford to be a SAHP any more really. But also, I do think modern society is set up in such a way that SAHPs can be quite isolated and going back to paid work is sometimes the only way to defeat isolation. The issue of who cares for your baby if you do return to paid work is a huge one fraught with all kinds of guilt for many mothers. And as for breastfeeding, or breast milk feeding, how does that work out, especially if the infant is exclusively breastfed?

I wanted to just throw an idea or two out there, some of it is shamelessly gleaned from The Continuum Concept I’ll admit, and some of it is my own musings. I’d say much of it is probably hopelessly idealistic but this is breastfeeding utopia after all.

A friend of mine once mused that the real challenge for any society is what to do with its young men. (He did say this after watching Ross Kemp on Gangs so I took it with a pinch of salt! )  I think that just as much of a challenge for a society is how to treat its new mothers.

Two of the less well-known benefits of breastfeeding

Many of us know of the “benefits of breastfeeding” (not “advantages of breastfeeding”; advantage compares it to something else, and breast should be the standard against which other methods are compared – sorry, just a little sidetrack there). These tend to be based around babies’  and mothers’ health, with a few “bonding” benefits thrown in for good measure.

But here are two of the benefits I’ve discovered that aren’t so well known.

You know how you get told “you’ll be able to read all your baby’s different signals – if he’s hungry, tired or just wants comforting”? And it sounds daunting (and it is)? Well, with breastfeeding, you don’t have to! I mean, you can if you want sit there and try and interpret those cries but this is how it would go:

“Waah! Waah!” What does this cry mean? Slightly high pitched, quite close together… hungry. I know, offer breast for food.

“Waaah! Waaah!” What about this one? Longer cries, lower in town… tired. I know, offer breast for sleep.

“Wah! Wah!” And this? Staccato cry with sharp intakes of breath… wants comforting. I know, offer breast for comfort.

So given the solution is the same in each case, why bother learning? Just offer the breast. In the early months this is a lifesaver; as baby gets older you will find (to your horror, if you are anything like me) that if baby does not want the breast s/he will refuse it anyway.

Another benefit people don’t talk about so often is what it does to your self-confidence, particularly with respect to body image. Maybe it is just me, but I used to dislike my body. So bumpy and lumpy and chubby, and those boobs; so big, but so saggy with their huge pink areola and blue veiny tinge. But now my breasts have a purpose and even the extra stores of fat I have are being made use of to make milk. I feel untouchable; insults about my weight or looks just bounce off.

Baby B strokes at the other breast whilst feeding, and those soft, needy hands stroking down a breast and gently pulling at the nipple to stimulate the milk make me and my body feel truly useful. I know it’s quite sad that I was never able to feel like this before, but at least I have that feeling now.

Anyone think of any more benefits that they don’t tell you?

Food glorious food? Not as good as breast milk.

Following on from my last post:

How often have you heard a breastfeeding mother say, “s/he’ll probably stop/start doing it (depending on what “it” is) when s/he starts on solid foods”? (e.g. he’ll sleep through the night when he’s on solids, he’ll stop being so fussy when he’s on solids etc.) What does this really mean?

Think about it. The implication there is that solid foods are somehow a cure all for baby problems. What are we comparing them to? That’s right, human milk. We’re saying solid foods are somehow “better” than human milk.

Again, we’re suspicious of breast milk. It’s somehow lacking, it’s not trustworthy enough, we can’t see how much is going in, we don’t really know what’s in it, it’s a bit mysterious. Whereas solid food – well, we cook it ourselves, we can see it going down, it’s tangible and real.

And yet, did you know that your breast milk actually contains, gram for gram, more calories than “solid” food? So that if you’re swapping breast milk for solid foods, you’re actually lowering your baby’s calorific intake? That’s certainly not going to stop a night-waking baby; if anything it will exacerbate the problem! Solid foods, at least for the first year, are meant to be a dessert rather than the main course. Baby needs to fill up his/her tummy on nutritious, calorific breast milk and then experiment with tastes as an afterthought.

But we’re suspicious of breast milk because it’s not the norm. It’s as if, as soon as baby has tasted that first floret of broccoli, breastmilk, which for the first six months was a complete food, suddenly becomes just a drink, an afterthought to the main meal of “normal”, solid food.

Think about it. Have you ever said, “he should sleep well tonight after that huge meal?” or lamented, “she’s too full of milk to take her proper food?” Think again.

Don’t blame it on sunshine, moonlight, good time or even the boogie…

Blame it on the breastfeeding.

Have you ever noticed how anything that happens is the fault of breastfeeding?

I’ve heard breastfeeding blamed for everything from non-sleeping babies, fussy babies and clingy babies, to exhausted mothers and marital breakdown.

“He isn’t sleeping long periods,” says a new Mum. “Are you still breastfeeding him?” is almost invariably the first question asked. If the mother is, then the answer given is often, “you need to give him a bottle last thing at night, then he’ll sleep,” or other words to this effect. In other words, it’s because you’re breastfeeding.

“He’s really fussy between feeds,” says another. “Are you still breastfeeding?” “Yes, why?” “Maybe you don’t have enough milk. He’s probably starving. Have you thought about giving him a bottle?”

“My husband and I are hardly speaking these days and I don’t find myself interested in sex,” says a third. “Are you still breastfeeding?” “Yes, do you think that’s something to do with it?” “Well, all I can tell you is that when you stop breastfeeding your libido comes back. Might be worth you stopping now, your baby’s had all the benefits and now your dh needs you.”

Have you ever noticed this? Any problem in a breastfed baby or breastfeeding mother / couple is to do with the breastfeeding.

Let’s see what happens when those mothers above answer, “no, I’m formula/bottle feeding him.”

Sleep: “ah well, that’s sometimes normal. Some babies don’t sleep through for yonks.”

Fussy: “he might just be one of those grizzly babies. Take him for a walk in the pram.”

Sex: “well I’m not surprised you’re not interested! You’re knackered and you’ve just had a baby!”

I could give examples for many more scenarios, but why do people do this? Is it simply because breastfeeding is not the cultural norm and as a result we eye it with some suspicion? We see bottle/formula feeding as the norm; have you ever heard a formula feeding mother told “is it something in the milk do you think?” No, me neither (occasionally I have heard it said, “is it his bottle/teat?” but only with direct reference to feeding problems). But I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve heard it said to breastfeeding mothers. Breast milk is a bit suspicious, as it’s not the cultural norm. You don’t know exactly what’s in it. It’s a bit mysterious, maybe a bit too “unscientific”, and we don’t entirely trust it.

But surely we, as breastfeeding mothers, don’t eye breastfeeding with suspicion, do we? Think about it. Next time you are having a “problem” or you hear of a friend having a “problem” with a (non-feeding) aspect of her baby’s behaviour, just check yourself and see if your first thought is to do with the breastfeeding.

More bad advice … but this time it’s a bit sadder.

I thought I’d share some of these pieces of advice that I’d heard recently; some directed at me, some at others. Read them and see if you can tell why they made me particularly sad.

If you’re nursing a toddler, don’t let them pull up your top in public. It might put someone off breastfeeding.

If you want to overindulge in drink over Christmas, make sure you have some EBM ready. Then make sure you pump and dump the feed you’ve missed and give the EBM instead.

Never let your baby fall asleep at the breast; they’ll never be able to go to sleep any other way.

I think some breastfed babies are fatter than they should be, because their Mums always use the breast as a first resort to comfort them, rather than looking for other ways.

So what does all this bad advice have in common? It was all handed out by other breastfeeders and some even by so-called “experts”. If we can’t even get it right, what hope is there for anyone else?

About my previous post (“A little story”).

After a comment on that particular post I wanted to explain exactly what I was trying to say as – I didn’t realise when I wrote it – it might have been misinterpreted.

My gist was this: we’re often told that there’s only a very, very, very small percentage of women who “can’t breastfeed”; often 1 in 50 is quoted. People often use this “fact” as a stick to beat women with who formula feed their babies.

I was trying to write about the cultural reasons surrounding breastfeeding difficulties, so that the 1 in 50 figure (which I think is things like breast reduction surgery, medical conditions that stop a woman lactating, that kind of thing) is actually much, much higher.

For example, our culture (here in the UK) tells women not to share a bed with their babies, that this is somehow wrong or immoral. Not bedsharing makes night feeding a bit more of a hassle, so that some women try and night-wean their babies earlier than the baby is ready. Often this causes problems with the breastfeeding relationship and sometimes the woman even stops breastfeeding as a result of these problems. However, I wasn’t saying was that putting your baby in a cot is wrong, or that if you can’t breastfeed it’s your own fault for not bedsharing, or anything else along these lines!!

Another example was that our culture tells us that babies have dummies when they cry.  This causes problems; sometimes the baby gets confused with how to suck, doesn’t remove milk efficiently from the breast as a result and breastfeeding is compromised; sometimes the breasts aren’t stimulated enough as the baby sucks on the dummy for comfort instead of the breast and the woman’s milk supply isn’t as great as it could be and so on. However again I wasn’t saying that dummies are just wrong, or that if you can’t breastfeed it’s your own fault for using a dummy!

I just wanted to clear that up as I really do not want to come across as a judgemental person; if anything I was trying to show with that post the very fact that I don’t think we should be judgemental of women who are unable to breastfeed, whatever the reasons.

Until the information that is given to breastfeeding women by health care professionals and others is all correct, accurate and free of myths and cultural assumptions, until all mothers who want to breastfeed have access to accurate information and that information is readily available (no matter what her level of education, reading ability etc.), until breastfeeding is seen as a normal activity, until breasts are no longer seen solely as sex objects, until the stigma surrounding breastfeeding (especially in public, and with older babies, toddlers and children) has disappeared completely, until the formula companies have stopped shoving their erroneous information down our throats, until we stop forcing women back into paid work when they are breastfeeding, until women who do want to do paid work while breastfeeding are allowed to express milk or have their babies with them without any hassle and without having to fight for it, until practices (like Attachment Parenting, bedsharing, babywearing etc.) which help the breastfeeding relationship become the cultural norm, until it is considered a woman’s indelible right to breastfeed her infant should she wish, until all this happens I will not judge a woman for her infant feeding decision.

(And even if it does happen, I still won’t judge.)

Baby B’s first few weeks – part two.

Finally, I’d met someone who recognised that look of desperation in my eyes. Who didn’t tell me my baby was content, or wasn’t hungry, or just needed a dummy. Who saw that something was wrong, and that I needed it sorted out.

And who introduced me to the breastfeeding support group at Whiston Hospital.

But before that happened, dh and I nearly split up, and mil’s taking baby B so I could “rest” rapidly became mil taking baby B so I could do the housework. In fact, when she returned one day and found me on the internet (Kellymom, or Mumsnet, trying to get breastfeeding support as usual) she actually told dh that I was taking the p- out of him and was lazy. Dh told me this and said, “and you won’t listen to me, but you normally listen to mil, so if she says it, as an independent observer, maybe you’ll think she’s right and more needs doing round here?”

(Dh has since apologised for that attitude I hasten to add!)

So I had that going around in my head; baby B still cried all the time and I succumbed in the end to Prozac.

K helped me attach baby B a bit better; she helped with my positioning so baby B’s lower arm was tucked under my boob. You’d be amazed at the difference this made, but something still wasn’t quite right.

At eight weeks old, I took baby B to the support group. N was on holiday. Another midwife was running it. I told her his latch wasn’t right. “That must be annoying,” she said. That was it.

The desperation was growing worse and as I was just starting on Prozac,  my mental state was growing worse too (Prozac, like many SSRIs, makes things worse before it makes them better). I woke up in the night even when baby B was asleep with a tense feeling in my stomach like a panic attack. I was terrified he might never feed properly and I would have to switch to formula. I can’t tell you why that terrified me so much but it did, it absolutely horrified me; I felt like it would destroy me.

At nine weeks of age, baby B met T. I’ve mentioned T before. T was wonderful. She was running the support group in N’s absence again and actually took me seriously.  We had my boobs out trying all sort of positions, sandwiching my areola and shoving it into baby B’s mouth, rugby balls, cross cradles, cradles and the like. It still wasn’t perfect but it was much better. I practised all through the week, just me and baby B.

Some time in these few weeks, I can’t remember exactly when, I got a sling after advice on Mumsnet. I could now carry baby B and get out and about, whereas before he would scream and scream in a pram and every five seconds I was stopping to pick him up, rock him, then put him back in the pram, walk another five seconds, pick him up… you get the picture.

That helped too. And then, when baby B was ten weeks old I met N. And you know what? I can’t even remember what she did exactly. Some stuff on positioning, helping me by suggesting I pull his chin down when latching him on, but nothing huge. But just knowing that there was a support group where an “expert” actually resided, just knowing that I would be able to breastfeed my baby, made a huge difference.

Of course to dh and mil the difference was the Prozac kicking in; my depression had been affecting baby B and that was why he’d been crying.

And after week ten, things started to get easier. I started co-sleeping; by accident first; I fed baby B lying down and fell asleep myself; when the sky didn’t cave in I did it more and more often. By the time baby B was three months of age things were much better.

It took mine and dh’s relationship until baby B was about five months old to recover; mine and mil’s still isn’t right. But my relationship with baby B, the most important one of them all, is absolutely wonderful.

Baby B’s first few weeks – part one.

So where were we up to? I’d gotten back from the hospital, finally, and feeding seemed to be going well.

In fact, it did seem to go well for quite some time. Baby B would fall asleep on the breast quite quickly though; I knew nothing of breast compression at the time so I would tickle his cheek to try and keep him awake. But other than this, no major worries. He rarely cried and slept for long periods during the day.

Week three of baby B’s life started and dh was due back at work in a few days’ time.  And just as week three started, so did the crying. I say crying. I mean screaming.

The only thing that would quiet him down was being on the breast. At this time I knew nothing of co-sleeping, nothing of feeding lying down, nothing of babywearing and feeding in a sling; I just knew that I could not “get anything done” because baby B would not stop screaming unless he was attached to me.  I also didn’t know he wasn’t sucking right, even though my nipples were in agony and cracked and scabbing over. Even though I was slathering them in PureLan (free with the breastpump I thought was essential) whenever the midwife came to visit, she never mentioned anything about me having sore nipples.

I thought babies were supposed to lie in cots or little bouncing chairs for hours on end. We had a vibrating, bouncing chair for baby B. It did quiet him down for a few moments but never long enough for me to get any housework done.

Enter mil into the equation.

“He’s just a very oral baby who wants to suck. He’s using you as a dummy.”

I had spent hours on Kellymom and other web sites trying to find out what on earth was wrong (his latch, so it seemed, but I did not know how to improve it) and I knew a dummy could interfere with breastfeeding, but gave into pressure in the end.

“Look, we’ll help you, but it has to be on our terms. You can’t have it your own way all the time.”

The only way mil would help me is if I gave baby B a dummy so she could physically remove him from me while I rested. It was the best I was going to get.

I watched mil shove the dummy in baby B’s mouth and listened to him scream and scream while she held it in with one hand and forced his head against her chest with the other, her lips on his head pursed, humming over and over the same childhood ditty about letting a lamp that shined on her shine on the one she loved.

I felt helpless. I couldn’t help my baby. Whenever mil wasn’t looking I put him on the breast. Whenever I was discovered I got, “he isn’t hungry! He just wants to suck!” or “you’re just shoving your boob in his face!” from either mil or dh.

Eventually mil and dh decided he needed formula top ups, to help me get some sleep. I knew this could be the beginning of the end for breastfeeding and fought against it. I kept stalling and stalling and in the end agreed that I would speak with the midwife who was due the next day; they would both be there and I would seek her advice and do what she suggested.

I’d of course hoped that the midwife would be on my side and tell them that formula top ups were the road to the end of breastfeeding.

But no. Going to bed while one of them gave baby B a bottle would help my breasts fill up apparently. As long as I gave baby B fifteen minutes on each breast before I gave the bottle, and only did it on the last feed of the night, my supply would be maintained, supposedly.

I knew the midwife was wrong, but I’d already agreed to give the top ups if the midwife said yes.

Dh drove me to Boots on the retail park; I was crying my eyes out. The midwife had recommended Aptamil; apparently, it’s the best if you can’t breastfeed, and is the closest to breastmilk, supposedly, so we went to buy three cartons of the stuff. I cried all the way around Boots and all the way home. Dh and mil talked about me in hushed voices when they thought I couldn’t hear. “Postnatal depression,” one would say, “yes, most likely,” the other would answer.

And then something happened. From somewhere I found the strength to stave off the top up for one more night. I had heard about a La Leche Peer Counsellor who volunteered and ran a group at the local SureStart centre. It was three days away; all I had to do was procrastinate for three more days and I wouldn’t have to give the top up.

I’m not even sure how I did it but I did. The Peer Counsellor gave me a few tips but could not improve baby B’s latch; that was a very low point especially as there was one other breastfeeding Mum there who actually said, “ah, isn’t it great? A breastfed baby is a contented baby.” Everyone seemed to agree with her. And there was baby B screaming his head off. “Why won’t he suck properly?” I almost cried. “Perhaps he’s not hungry?” one of the other Mums said, listening to baby B’s hysterical wailing.

But I at least had a support group. By this time baby B was about five weeks old and still screaming; I still wasn’t sleeping and was still giving him the dummy, forcing it into his mouth the way mil showed me to.

And then I met K at the support group.  And things finally started to change.