Showing posts with label public opinion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public opinion. Show all posts

Monday, March 1, 2010

Milk From Another Mother - Reflections on Wet Nursing

I nursed another baby today. I never thought I would do that. My sister-in-law left for her sister's wedding in New York. The original plan was to take the baby -- a two-month old (or three? Three.) with her but for various reasons she ended up leaving her behind. She'd had bottles before; many times, in fact. She also regularly takes a pacifier. But for some reason, she was refusing to take it this morning, and that's when I walked in the door. I found the ladies of the house fretting and fussing and the baby howling and covered in formula. I tried my hand at feeding her with the bottle but to no avail. The kids wouldn't suck. So I did what I guess is instinctive. I lifted up my shirt. And the house fell silent. She ate. And ate. She must have been hungry. My own baby was sleeping in her bassinet, and anyway she's old enough for solids. So when she woke up it was solids for her. Powdered barley cereal followed by an avocado.

I didn't really like nursing another child. It has nothing to do with this particular kid. I'm just attached, I guess you could say, to my own suckling. It wasn't a nice feeling for me during or after. I realize I'm doing a nice thing and actually it would have been kind of cruel of me to refuse but I don't have to like it. I feel bad for the kid. Part of nursing is about bonding and being held and feeling close and warm. I do like the kid. After all, she's my niece and she's a pretty cute kid-- what's not to like? She smiles. She smiles at me. She's nice. But she's not mine and I was rather uncomfortable nursing her and so I felt bad that the baby should be nursed by someone whose heart was not completely into it. I also am very possessive, even about my breast milk and I was silently apologizing to DD in my head for sharing it.

I was still there when my niece woke up a few hours later. Ioffered to go out and get another formula for her to try out. Maybe that was the problem. I suggested that we try feeing her while she was still calm and before she got really hungry and frantic. Neither of these plans worked. As soon as we put the bottle to her, she opened up her mouth and howled. She refused the bottle in any way shape or form and so I fed her again. My baby had formula.

Later on in the evening my niece was looking at me from her baby chair. Flirting, my mother in law called it. Seducing me.

When by brother-in-law came home he managed to give her a bottle, thankfully. Apparently she's used to taking it from him.

We're home now and my mother in law just called to so say that DH forgot his cell phone there and, by the way, the baby was howling....

My baby is now asleep. Probably not for the night. But what choice do I have? I'm going to have to go back and feed the other.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Who Knows Breast?

Who knows best? Mother, of course. Mother knows best about breastfeeding her child. The other day I was at my in-laws. Baby had a very sore bottom from a bad diaper rash. She was crying and uncomfortable. This much was obvious to me, and I was trying to help her through it. I tried nursing her but she wasn't going for it. In the meantime, my in-laws and assorted family members decided that the kid was hungry. The kid was not hungry. Having just released a couple of breasts full of milk into her mouth, I was fairly certain of this. I know her eating rhythms and I just knew she wasn't crying for food. My mother-in-law, who I like very much but who is clinically neurotic-- especially when it comes to feeding her grandchildren -- told me that when she was breastfeeding (nearly 30 years ago and then each time for only one month postpartum) she would give a bottle after every feeding and keep giving bottles until she was sure the baby was not hungry. Most babies I know tell their moms when they're hungry. My husband sure does. I'm sure he didn't ever get a chance to when he was a baby. God bless. This was a whole new frontier for neuroticism.
Anyway, I finally consented to let them give her a bottle of formula. I warned them though that just because she drinks it, doesn't mean she was hungry. It just means she's getting a snack that's sweeter and easier to drink than breastmilk. I think of it as baby candy. They fed her a big bottle and she drank it down, smiling. Two minutes later she resumed her writing and wailing which lasted until I put a soothing ointment on her bottom.
I am really a difficult person to offend, but this whole situation got to me. Who are they to tell me whether or not she'd eaten enough? Her sustenance is derived through my body. I would call that a pretty strong bond. I feel my breasts fill up, I feel them release the milk. Would I question them if they told me they'd just peed? Even my husband was begining to doubt me, and he's usually quite good about these things. In fact, it was his doubt that made me doubt myself and let me decide to allow her a bottle. Next time I'll just stick to what I know-- though the only way to get them off my back and keep the peace was to let them try to bottle feed her. (Maybe they all were having secret maternal urges and just wanted to feed her.) She drinks formula about once a week when I'm working, but when I'm around, I'd much rather she gets fed the old fashioned way. Also, that's how I know when she's had enough.