Another label for my side bar? I think so.

This blog got me thinking about my own beliefs. I have become a lactivist and really didn't see it coming, mostly because, until I was really in the thick of it, I didn't realize there was a need for such a thing.
See, where I come from, breastfeeding is normal. My mom nursed us, my aunts nursed their children, my cousin nursed her little ones when I was a teenager and lived with them. It was talked about as commonplace. I remember one particular conversation where my uncle spoke scathingly about our neighbour, who sent his wife down the hall to the bathroom when she had to nurse their children while visiting our house. Casting my mind back there, I don't really remember giving a thought to the existence of formula. The only instances in which I knew it was used were instances where I was babysitting, so it made sense that I was given a bottle of something to give to the baby.
My first encounter with the breastfeeding vs formula controversy was when the aforementioned cousin put me on the spot, asking why a family friend with a baby the same age as hers wasn't breastfeeding. I remember having that deer-in-the-headlights feeling. I had no idea why she wasn't. I hadn't given it a thought. I got the distinct tone of disdain in her voice though and muttered something about her breasts being too small. It was the best I could come up with at 15, not having a sweet clue about any of this, knowing it was none of my or her damn business, but feeling like I had to defend someone I cared about. She told me that this wasn't possible and that EVERYONE can breastfeed. I changed the subject.
When I joined my online community and we started having children, I started noticing threads popping up where claws were bared by defensive formula-feeders and high-horses were ridden by self-righteous breastfeeders. It was also at this time that I first heard the motto "breast is best", which has always sounded weird to me. You see, to me, breastfeeding was normal, the way things were - there was no need for it to be best. I guess, as a young adult, I still didn't see formula as an option, but rather a back-up plan.
When I was pregnant the first time, I had my first run-in with someone who was anti-breastfeeding. My mother's neighbour made a snide comment about not allowing my mother the opportunity to bond with her granddaughter. When I asked my mother about it, she explained that her friend felt breastfeeding was a selfish choice on the part of the mother that disallowed the rest of the family from bonding with the baby. I knew this was nonsense, but I wasn't confident enough to speak up, so I just rolled my eyes and moved on. The same neighbour also made a nasty comment at my baby shower for Orin when I unwrapped a breastfeeding pillow. I didn't respond this time because I knew it wasn't worth it.
Luckily, as the women in my online community became more mature and better debaters, I learned a lot more about the overall cultural situation with regard to breastfeeding and realised really quickly that what I knew was not normal. Culturally, what I grew up with - many women in my immediate circle who breastfed, public breastfeeding being commonplace, men who are incredibly comfortable with breastfeeding and may be considered lactivists themselves today - is not what most people grow up with. I also learned of the many factors that sabotage women in breastfeeding - formula companies making false claims about their products, workplaces not allowing women the opportunity to pump (not to mention the whole maternity leave system in the US), the discomfort of the general public, the belief that not being able to breastfeed is common, etc.
I have, over the course of being a parent, become more vocal in favour of breastfeeding. I have encountered many people on both sides of the debate - some very vocal (I will never forget the crazy parents in Florida who stalked off angrily because they obviously felt I was trying to scar their toddler by sharing googly faces with her while nursing Isabel in a courtyard). Through these experiences in particular, I have grown more confident in my beliefs. What I have been careful not to do though is demonize formula or women who formula-feed - this is neither productive nor kind. What I do firmly believe is that breatfeeding needs to become normal for others the way it was for me because breastmilk is the most complete and appropriate food for human babies - just like cows milk is compete and appropriate for baby cows. For this reason, I make a point of breastfeeding in public with no cover on a regular basis. I talk openly about it and support others in their endeavours to breastfeed their babies - I do for others what my friends and family did for me.

Where to begin? It has been a whirlwind couple of weeks!

It has been a wild couple of weeks! As I mentioned, we were on holiday during the first week of August. We had a great time. I will include some photos at the bottom of this post.
The first two days were spent in Moncton. We visited with my family. My mom threw a little get-together where our friends and family could come by to meet Orin and visit with us. The rest of our time in Moncton was spent at Crystal Palace. We got a package that included the room, a family pass to the park, a bunch of food and movie passes. I wasn't sure how Isabel would feel about the rides in the amusement park, but I really hoped she would like some of the tamer ones at least. So I was surprised, to say the least, when she was an absolute dare-devil. She went on the kiddie rides over and over and over again - carousel, jumping star, submarine, rinse and repeat. She BEGGED to go on the roller coaster and swings. She sat to have her face painted for the first time. She played a few of the games in the arcade (though even they were a little beyond her). In short, she had an absolute blast. I was so pleased to see her have such a great time. For my part, I made sure to get a dip in the pool, a ride on the swings and a nightcap of a Starbucks' white mocha and a piece of peanut butter and chocolate encrusted cheesecake (mmm....diabetic coma). Dave ate lots of good food, had a nap or two and indulged in his own brand of nightcap (tea and cherry cheese cake). Orin was just along for the ride for the most part, but did seem to have fun hanging out with us.
After our amusement park adventure, it was off to Halifax for a few days. Here, we celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary with Dave's family, visited a good friend and her family - she has a daughter the same age as Isabel and twins the same age as Orin, shopped a little, took in a bit of the busker festival and relaxed a little.
On our way home, we stopped many times because Orin decided he was done with his car seat and chose to scream through large swaths of the drive. The good part about this is that we got to see Mastodon Ridge, which I have never been to, and stopped at the farm, where we chatted with Uncle Larry, whom I rarely see now and miss terribly. Despite the screaming, it was a nice trip.
What did I learn from traveling with a husband (who doesn't like to travel), a preschooler (who is coming into her own and demanding independence) and an infant (who specialises in his own brand of high-maintenance)? Leave the husband at home, bring another mom (and her kid(s)) with you and don't try to jam too much in (which tends to be the way I travel...I don't want to miss anything). Overall though, it was a great time and I am glad we did it.
Since then, it has been a mad dash to get the house and preparations ready for Isabel's party this past weekend. I think the party will get its own post, so that is all I will say here.
The other big news is that we had a tube-free day this past week. That is to say that Orin's tube came out accidentally in the middle of the night and rather than riling him up and waking Isabel, we thought we'd try not putting the tube back in and see how far he could make it. I suspected that, if he could take that middle of the night feed, I wouldn't have to put it in until bedtime and it turned out I was right. He drank all the water he needed until bedtime, when he was just too tired to drink, so in when the tube. I really can't say I was overly disappointed though - he's come so far that the small hump of a couple of feeds at night is nothing.
Alright, that is the brief version of our recent adventures. There will be more to come, including more reflective posts. For now, here are the pictures:

Happy Belated World Breastfeeding Week!

We were on holiday during Breastfeeding Week. I had every intention of blogging a little something about it, but vacation fun got in the way.

I thought I might talk about the fight I fought in order to breastfeed my son.

There was no doubt in my mind that I would nurse my daughter and I did and loved every minute of it.

When I became pregnant again (a mere 4 months after I stopped nursing Isabel, it dawned on me one day), there was no doubt I would nurse that baby too. When we found out it was a boy, dramatically increasing the concerns with regard to NDI, my determination didn't waver. I read various places that there was no reason that a baby with NDI couldn't be exclusively breastfed (while being supplemented with water).

My boy was born and within less than a day, it was determined that he was dehydrating and there was little doubt that he had NDI and wasn't getting enough fluid from breastfeeding. This was the first blow to my self-esteem and determination.

He had an IV put in and then a central line, still breastfeeding on demand the entire time. Once he was hydrated enough, the medical intervention was gradually removed and we tried giving him water in bottles. For another two weeks, we tried a multitude of different solutions for getting Orin eating, drinking and, most of all, healthy. When things were at their worst, Orin wasn't really getting enough water from the bottles, preferred the flowrate of the bottle to that of the breast, so he fussed at the breast every time I tried to feed him, meaning he wasn't eating either. Neither of us was sleeping because, as he dehydrated again, he became fussier and fussier - I slept a grand total of 1.5 hours one day. I was slowly losing my mind. I was losing confidence in myself and my ability to take care of my baby.

At this point, the paediatrician suggested we may need to start giving him formula. The first time it was suggested, I couldn't speak. I burst into tears - I knew that they were suggesting it because they wanted to get him healthy and get us home, but this was not how it was supposed to be. I asked the doctor if I could have some time to think about it. I thought long and hard. I spoke to my husband. I spoke to friends. I fielded a phone call from a well-meaning family member, encouraging me to use formula because "it worked for her kids." I took about a day to clear away all of the fog - the mess of opinions, the worries that others would think I was putting an agenda before the needs of my child, the guilt and fear.

The next day, I gathered myself up and waited by Orin's bedside for rounds. I knew what I wanted to happen and I was going to make it clear to all parties involved so we were all on the same page. When the doctor came around, I told her that breastfeeding my child was incredibly important to me. It was what he needed (both as a human infant in general and as a child with a sodium sensitivity - breastmilk is surprisingly low in sodium). I told her about the bottle preference and that I wanted the breast to be offered to him first at all times - every time he woke, fussed, seemed remotely hungry/thisty. I wanted to get rid of the bottles altogether for a while. I had seen many babies in the NICU with NG tubes because they were unable to eat themselves for whatever reason (usually because they were premature and were still too weak and small to nurse). I suggested we put in an NG tube for water in order to keep him hydrated and redevelop the nursing relationship. Once breastfeeding was well-established, we could attempt bottles again. I stood next to my baby, stone-faced, wearing messy gym clothes (my uniform while in the hospital) and generally looking disheveled, but serious. Much to my surprise, she said yes. As it turns out, the specialist in Halifax had suggested the same thing quite early on, but the local docs wanted to try more home-friendly options first

I couldn't pump (just as I couldn't with Isabel), so to feed him through the night, I had to be accessible. For five weeks, I lived at the hospital, sleeping in a 5'x 10' room when it was available and a leather couch in a TV lounge when it wasn't. I missed my family more than I can tell you. I lost the trust of my daughter temporarily. I didn't eat, sleep or maintain myself in anyway for five weeks. I dedicated myself to breastfeeding my son and helping him become healthy enough to come home.

He was released for good on March 16th at 5 weeks 4 days old. He will be six months old tomorrow and is still exclusively breastfed. Every doctor who has seen him (and there've been a bunch) have exclaimed over how healthy he is and how good he looks and how big he has gotten. One joked that whatever I have on tap is exactly what he needs - I couldn't have said it better.