Hannah's Heartstrings

The one thing that struck me deeply when I began taking my brand new baby Titus out into the world was just how stressed out it made me to have to deal with the expectations of others and their potential offense of the way I chose to do things, particularly with breastfeeding.

I am a very modest person. I'm pretty conservative by some standards, less by others. I generally prefer my knees and shoulders covered, wear camis under low cut shirts, but am also totally comfortable in a pair of skinny jeans, so I'm kind of in the middle ground. The catch is that I am very well-endowded in the breast category, so most often, keeping the girls covered is quite the battle.

Throw in a very big, heavy baby boy that loves to pull on my shirt and unlatches multiple times during a feed, a really plentiful milk supply that leaves my big, flailing boy sputtering milk everywhere during a letdown...and modesty becomes harder than an Ultimate Ninja Warrior course.

I was so overly concerned with not offending anyone with the feeding of my child, that I often became wrapped up in an incredible amount of anxiety over who was seeing me breastfeed. Would they be offended if I nursed in front of them? Will my baby make too loud of suckling noises and bother them? And horror of horrors...what if my cover slips off for a moment and someone sees.my.boob?

No wonder I came down with mastitis four times in the first two months of Titus's life.

I made a valiant effort to use a nursing cover, but it only worked when he was brand new. After he was about three months old, it just became more trouble than it was worth. Titus was hot. I was sweating. He hated having something over his face. But I tried because using a cover is what all the best modest moms do, right?

I tried cloistering myself in a room to nurse my baby when I was around people I was told might have a problem with it. Once. I ended up spending several hours hiding in my church's nursery during a fellowship dinner with my one-month-old baby who suddenly wanted to cluster feed. By the time he was satisfied enough to join the dinner, there was hardly any food left, and I was beyond hungry. I scraped together what was left of the salad I brought, and hesitantly let a couple people hold Titus, who ended up with a terrible rash on his sensitive face (probably from their perfume or laundry detergent). Not to mention I was so sad and lonely and felt like no one cared. I went home, cried, and told my husband that I would never again put myself in such a position.

I am not trying to complain. I am not a part of the "free the nipple" crowd. I promise I won't scandalize your husband by flopping my engorged, leaking, sagging breast out over my shirt.

But I'm doing my best.

Really.

Do you think it is my ultimate goal to expose my breasts in public? Do you think I look forward to the moments when I am going to have let my little baby suckle on them while a crowd of people seemingly waits with baited breath to give me their latest bit of parenting advice? Do you think I enjoy the idea that someone might possibly catch a glimpse of one of my most private of body parts, no matter how hard I work to keep it covered?

Yet this is part of the job I signed up for, and I am doing the best I can.

So is every other breastfeeding mom in the world.

Those of us that value modesty and take great pains in our clothing choices are faced with such a challenge when it comes to pulling out one of the parts we strive so hard to cover so that our little ones can have a snack. Its such a natural part of our mothering journeys but such an unnatural part of the standards that we have engrained in ourselves. So with that in mind, is it too much to ask for just a little grace?

Personally, I don't think so.

We are trying here. We are striving hard to not offend you with the feeding of our children. We would totally understand if you got your panties in a wad because we showed no care or respect when we nursed. But that isn't the case.

The fact that we try to hide in rooms alone and forgotten, miss out on fellowship, go hungry, and be covered in sweat and overheating our babies in an effort to use the cover you value so highly should speak loudly of our concern over the modesty issue in our breastfeeding experience.

But we need your help here.

We are doing our part and more. We are going out of our way and being uncomfortable to make sure that you aren't. But no mom should feel as if her friends and family have abandoned her simply because she needs to nurse her baby.

If you have to insist that she leave the room to nurse, can you at least get her a freaking plate of food? How about sit and talk with her so she doesn't feel completely alone?

If you have to insist she use a cover, can you please set up a fan close by so the poor girl doesn't sweat to death?

Or how about just exercise all that Christian love and grace you preach so loudly and try to understand that this little mama is doing her best? Her goal is not to seduce anyone. Her goal is not to be obnoxious. She's sore, sleep-deprived, and already so nervous. Give her a break.

In May, I attended one of my favorite Bible conferences. I had a lot of anxiety leading up to it, because I knew my three month old was going be a handful and want to nurse a lot. The first night, I attempted to sit in the back and nurse him with my cover, and ended up so overheated that Titus projectile vomited so many times that I worried he would get dehydrated. I tried finding other places to nurse, but nothing worked and I just managed to get so distraught because I was missing every message. Talk about discouraging. Finally, I sat myself down on the floor outside the conference room. Close enough that I could hear the speaker, yet far enough away that no one would be bothered by us.

And I nursed. And I listened. And I was filled up.

But you know what the nicest thing was? The amount of people, mostly guys, that offered to get me a chair or a bottle of water. Several asked every time they walked by if I needed anything. A couple people came and sat with me between services. And I finally felt like all that grace and love we believe in so strongly was finally being shown in a real life situation.

I know that grace is not a license to get away with whatever you want. That's not what I'm getting at. I am simply saying that when someone is working so very hard to be modest in a frightfully awkward situation, the very least you can do for her is not pile your personal expectations and standards on her already stressed out shoulders. Show her the same grace you expect, and more. If you've been in her shoes, you should understand. If you haven't, you should mind your own beeswax.

Thank you, and nurse on, sweet mamas!

Perhaps things I wish I'd known is the wrong way to title this post. Some of these thing are ones I knew but for some reason they just didn't click. Other things were stuff I had been told, but dismissed. All in all, having a baby has brought some revelations I was not emotionally prepared for.

Becoming a mother is the most fascinating, exasperating, magical thing I have ever done, and honestly, I really look forward to having another baby so I can experience it in a much more prepared way. But then that baby will probably be completely different than this one, so I'll have a whole new set of things to learn. In the mean time, here's what I discovered with this one.

You do not have to eat for two.
Seriously, this is actually kind of a bad idea. You may feel like you want to eat everything in sight, but unless you are one of those women blessed with the ability to burn fat just by smiling, you will probably regret using your baby as an excuse to binge. As someone who can gain weight just by looking at food, I really wish I'd have exercised a little more common sense when it came to my pregnancy eating habits.

You CAN lift things.
Obviously, don't overdo it. But seriously, you are not an invalid. Nothing is broken, and you are just as strong, if not stronger than you were before you got pregnant. You'll know when its time to take a rest, but sitting around afraid to exert yourself isn't healthy. And when you have another baby, you'll have a toddler that wants to be picked up and hugged, so the whole "don't lift things" myth kinda goes out the window. So lift some crap. It's good for you.

Postpartum is HARD.
This is the most important thing. Pregnancy was amazing. Birth was enchanting. But postpartum was the hardest thing I have ever gone through. I really expected to bounce back a whole lot faster than I did. I found myself dealing with crippling anxiety, four bouts of mastitis, and stronger emotions than I had prepared for. If nothing else, the smashing realization that this tiny little person was completely dependent on ME was enough to throw me for a loop. I mean, it's one of those things that you know, but actually holding this howling, starving, pink little human wriggling in your arms and knowing that its going to need its diaper changed {many times} and it's probably going to be up every two hours...and you're the one it wants...I think I almost hyperventilated the first time I changed my son's diaper.

Only after three months did I start feeling somewhat like a normal human being again. I am now a firm believer in The Fourth Trimester. When I have another baby, I will be telling everyone not to expect anything from me for the next three months. I will be purposely hibernating with my littles, not like this time where my fear of going out kept me home rather than a respect for myself and what I had just gone through. I won't be trying to make an appearance anywhere, travel anywhere, or go places so people can meet the baby. If you want to see us, you know where we live...bring a covered dish.

So if I can say anything to new moms, it is this: lower your expectations. Take it easy on yourself. Wear only stretchy pants and whatever you do, don't try on your pre-pregnancy jeans right away unless you want to cry. You just made a freakin' human and pushed it out of your body. Give yourself at least three months to recover, and shove everyone else's expectations of you down the toilet.

Having siblings/babysitting DOES NOT adequately prepare you for motherhood.
It just doesn't. You can have a dozen siblings and spend countless hours babysitting, but those kids ultimately have a mother, and you are not it. Unless you have literally been the one to to drag yourself out of bed (what feels like hundreds of times), been the only person that little one wants, been its main source of food, warmth, and cleanliness...being a sister or a sitter is just playtime. You may be able to change a diaper, or distract a toddler long enough for your mom to get a shower, but it's just not the same.

Growing up around birth/breastfeeding does not adequately prepare you for actually doing it. 
I have been a part of big families and breastfeeding culture my whole life. So when Titus was born I pulled him close to me and tried to feed him in his first day earthside. When my midwife's assistant came to check up on me less than 24 hours after birth, she asked how things were going. Titus hadn't latched on for more than 5 minutes, and it just felt awkward and hard. I showed her what I was doing, and she proceeded to crawl up in bed with me and spend a good half hour coaching me on the breastfeeding I swore I knew all about. It was simple things I felt like I should have known, but I didn't. Her time with me made all the difference in the world.

Birth was in many ways the same. I had watched all the videos, read all the books, but when it came right down to it, I needed my midwife and my doula there to remind me of things and coach me through the process. They were worth their weight in gold to me.

So regardless of how many siblings you grew up with, hire a doula and make sure you have someone available to check up on you afterwards and help you with nursing or whatever else you may not realize you need help with.

Birth has a mind of its own.
Water breaks, labor happens, baby is born. That's how it goes, right? One thing right after the other, a flurry of activity to bring a baby earthside.

Wrong. Or at least, not always right.

In my case, my water broke, and forty.freaking.hours later, my labor officially started. What?!? I totally did not expect my body to need that much time to get ready for birth.

So make your plan, know what you want in your birth, but don't be surprised if something changes. Roll with it.

People are so opinionated. 
They've got a solution for everything. They know everything. And they make pretty rude comments. They will make comments about your weight, both before and after baby...as if you need any more blows to your self esteem. They will insist that its good for the baby to cry, and tell you that you have to give the baby a bottle whether you want to or not. They will ask stupid questions about your baby's sleep habits, eating habits, and even have the audacity to ask if your tiny little newborn is a "good baby", because newborns are malicious little monsters, right? They will tell you all the things you "need" to do, and will be rather offended if you keep the baby's name and gender a secret. If you tell them your pregnancy is going really well, they will look at you like you are lying to them.

Basically, most people are incapable of just telling a pregnant woman how beautiful she looks, or a new mom how adorable her baby is, and leaving it at that.

People are weird. 
So when I got pregnant, everyone was excited. But after he was born, something strange happened. Our family and a lot of friends were still thrilled, of course. But a lot of people that I thought would be more excited...weren't. Or maybe it wasn't exactly that they weren't excited so much as they just weren't present. They were happy to meet the baby if I showed up somewhere with him. But it was almost as if they were indifferent. It was the weirdest thing I have ever seen.
I don't even know what my advice is here, other than to expect weirdness. There will always be people you thought would be around for you and then it turns out that they aren't. And no one will be as excited for your baby as you will be, so just focus on that.

Babies are weird.
They are the most wonderful weird in the world. But they are truly weird. Just when you think you've got them all figured out, they will change on you. Just when you think they're "on a schedule," forget it, they won't be tomorrow. Just when you think they've stopped breaking out in some frightening skin rash, a new one will flare up because we suddenly can't handle dairy. One day they will be so hungry {all} day and the next, they'll sleep so much you'll wonder if they're sick or something. They find amusement in the silliest things, and have ability to puke the quietest, most unforeseen puke of your life.

You have never known this kind of worry.
I don't care what kind of stress you've ever experienced, it does not compare to the worry you will now have on your heart 24/7 because of this little person. I never knew it was even possible to worry about the things I now worry about. Is he hot? Is he cold? Are his socks too tight? Is he breathing? What if someone with a cold breathes on him? Am I making enough milk? What do I do with him when I have to pee? Oh good heavens someone is holding him...don't freak out, don't freak out, don't.freak.out. He's crying...why is he crying? Did I hurt him somehow? What if I got a little water in his mouth when I gave him a bath...you know secondary drowning in a thing, right? Oh my goodness what if he's drowning? Why is he still asleep? Is HE BREATHING???

A dear friend has told me it gets easier with the second and third kids, so apparently I need to have more babies.

You have never known love like this.
I never knew my heart could explode like this. It will never cease to amaze me how this tiny human can fill me with a love and a joy like nothing I have ever experienced. No matter how long a night we've had, how sore my boobs are, how long its been since I've showered, or how many different types of bodily fluid I'm covered in...all it takes is one beautiful, admiring smile from him and I completely melt. During those long, hard nights, there is always a moment where I cry a little and think, "Little guy, I am not real fond of you right now." And then the morning comes and he starts babbling and cooing to me, and my feeble heart goes, "Aw, its ok. I'll be sleep deprived for you every day for the rest of my life if only you will make that beautiful little noise one more time."

We are always learning, always growing. So take heart lovely mamas. Be prepared. Be flexible. Be gentle on yourself.