An Aside on Unintentional Shaming

Zen baby

I'd like to talk, if I may, about something very important.

Not shaming other parents.

You see, parenting is hard.  Very, very hard.  And we have a tendency to take it very personally.

After all, whatever you're doing- you've probably been pretty sure that you're doing it wrong at some point.  And that's normal.  We all go into parenting completely blind- we all go in with this sense of heightened importance, we all go in with this crazy idea that we are somehow going to be perfect parents.

We'll do everything that our parents did right.  We won't do anything that our parents did wrong.  We will feed our kids properly, we will train our kids properly, we will love our kids properly.

And that- that right there- is where the shit starts to hit the fan.

You see, from the moment we first see our babies, from the very first second, everything you do, you do to show them that you love them.

If course that ends.  You start doing things because they need to be done, because you need a few moments to yourself, or because you just forgot and acted like a jerk because you are still a human being.

But you get started based on love.

You feed the baby, with breast or bottle, because somewhere inside of you... you know you love it and you want it to thrive.

You hold the baby, because although you've never met before, you love it and want to show it that you care.

Or you don't hold the baby, because you're afraid that it will sense that you don't know what the hell you're doing, and you don't want it to know that you went into parenting totally blind.

Every parent starts making choices for their child the moment they come into the world.

And we take those choices personally.  Because, based on their failures or successes, they seem to equal the total of our love.

"If I make all the best choices, my child will know that I really, really love her."

"If I make wrong choices, it must mean that I don't love my child enough to make the right ones."

These are the nagging voices in the backs of our own minds.  These aren't the reality- we're not being judged.

Until, suddenly, we are.

Somewhere, some mom says to herself that she is making the right choice, and it is her duty to tell other mothers who are doing it wrong that they are doing it wrong.  Not because she actually knows, but because if they're doing it right, then SHE must be doing it wrong, and she can't live with that kind of doubt.

And if everyone does it right, it's quantifiable.  It's simplified.  There's a right way and a wrong way, and she's doing it the right way.

But what is right for one mother is simply not right for all mothers.  What is right for one baby simply isn't right for all babies.

I saw this picture posted on facebook today.  It's allegedly the nutritional content of breast milk.

Now, I nurse RH.  Almost exclusively.  She gets an occasional bottle of formula, and I feel the need to justify that.  Not because there is anyone policing breastfeeding mothers to tell them whether or not they're doing it right, not because the occasional bottle of formula is in any way hurting my child, but because other mothers might click their tongues at me for leaving my baby at home at two months old with her grandparents and the instruction to give her a bottle if I'm not back in time to feed her.

And I get back, and yeah, I feel guilty if she had a bottle.

I feel guilty if she cried, and I didn't comfort her.

I feel guilty, and nobody did that to me but myself.

But I project.  If I feel guilty, then I must be being judged.  By other mothers.

And, if I am not careful, I judge those other mothers to protect myself.  Those attachment parents who would never leave their babies with a sitter to go to a movie, or the store.  If I am not careful, I tell myself that this is they who are the bad parents, because they don't take any time for themselves to stay sane.

*I* need time to myself to stay sane, who knows about anybody else?

*I* breastfeed my baby, but not entirely exclusively, because sometimes she's hungry and I'm not there, and I just don't have time to pump all the time.

So maybe I don't go around and shame other moms for making different choices, and instead I publicly pat myself on the back for my own choices.  "Good job, me!" I say outloud, where everyone can hear.  "You made the right choice."

And that... that is the unintentional shaming.

That picture of the breast milk nutritional contents...

When I publicly declare that I did the right thing, and I did a good job, I am also saying that you, a real person, made the wrong choice if you did something different.

Yes, it's less malicious.  But no less hurtful.

My mother only nursed her children for a number of weeks.  Her letdowns were so painful that she was unable to function through them.  She was a wonderful mother, and I do not think I was in any way harmed by being a formula baby.

I have a friend, a La Leche Leaguer, who's daughter was "failure to thrive" until she started supplementing breast milk.  Her breast milk genuinely wasn't providing everything her baby needed.

I have many friends with babies and children.  Some nursed their children, some didn't, some still do.

All of their kids are, frankly, great.

But things like that picture... those things can genuinely hurt.

We, human beings, live in a constant state of doubt.  I think it's one of the things that separates us from other animals.

We doubt, and we wonder.

And that is why we have religion.  And science.  And literature.  And art.  Because we must express our doubt somehow, and we must answer those questions.

And most of the great questions left to us have no right or wrong answer.

And for those great questions, questions like, "Am I a good person?  Am I a good parent?" a muddled, shades-of-grey answer just doesn't cut it.  We want to hear a resounding, "yes."

We want to stop doubting, and know that we love our children enough.  That we are doing the things that they need.

There are women who cannot breastfeed their children.  That doesn't make them bad parents.  There are women who choose not to breastfeed.  That doesn't make them bad parents.

What matters is that we care.  We want to protect our children.  We want them to thrive, both in love and in health.

The bad parents are the ones who don't feed their children at all, because they do not care if their child lives or dies.  That is bad parenting.

And sometimes?  That isn't the parent's fault either.  Sometimes, a parent needs almost as much help as a baby.

And shaming those parents by strutting around and saying, "look at me, I'm doing everything right." that isn't helping anybody but yourself.

Am I proud of breastfeeding my baby?  Yes.  Very.  Not because I think formula is bad, or that bottle feeding is wrong.  I am proud because it was really effing hard to get good at it, and I did it anyway.  I feel more like a breastfeeding survivor than a lactivist.  Showing off my chubby baby is like rolling up my sleeve and showing the scars on my arm and saying, "You see that?  That really hurt, and that was a hard time in my life, but things are better now.  Things get easier."  Except that instead of talking about depression, I'm talking about parenthood.

So to all the parents who have ever felt judged by my pats on my own back, I am sorry.  I am not here to judge you for your choices, for the realities of your lives.

And to all the parents out there, insecure about their roles and their decisions and looking for some validation...

You're not going to find it from other moms.  You're not going to find it through judging other moms.  You're not even going to find it by announcing that you don't need it because you know you're awesome.

Me and M and our children

You'll find it by looking at your kids.

Look at them.

Listen to them.

Watch them.

Are they happy?  Do they know you love them?  Do they trust you to do what you can to ensure their safety and their health?

Then you are an awesome parent.

The validation of your success is that you have succeeded.  And nobody can give that to you but yourself.

Good job, moms and dads.  You have loved your children, and you couldn't stop if you tried.

You are successful parents.

Let that be the final word on the matter.

 

End of the Month Controversy: Nursing In Public

Feeding the baby

When my twins were infants, I didn't go out much.  Feeding them outside the home was just too much work.  Tandem nursing requires a fair amount of space, it's anything but inconspicuous, and then there was the added complication that we were also supplementing with a bottle.  And pumping.

Preemies take a little extra work, sometimes.

Each feeding involved first changing two diapers, then latching on two babies, then nursing two babies, then bottle feeding two babies who were too tired out to finish a meal, and then pumping both breasts.

So we stayed at home.

Now, we have one baby, and she's a fine nurser*.  So I get to leave the house whenever two toddler, time, and other assorted demands allow.  Or if it's otherwise required.  And wherever I go, my breasts come with me... so I can feed the baby any time, any place.

The thing is, there are a lot of people in this country who are really opposed to public nursing.  They think that breast feeding is weird, obscene, or just plain gross.  They don't want to be exposed to it.  They don't want their children exposed to it.

This is a very American hangup.

This is not done discreetly

In the United States, there is the sense that skin means only one thing- sex.  If you see a lot of skin, what you're seeing is some sort of invitation or reminder for sex.  And on top of all that, we tend to view sex as a fundamentally bad thing.  Bad, but acceptable.

So exposed skin being used for a non-sex purpose must still be sexual, and must be somehow perverse. It's a deviation from the unspoken rule that skin should only be exposed when hunting for sex or going to the beach.

If you're nursing in public, you are inviting sex while holding a baby.  And that's a pretty mixed message, isn't it?

Now, I don't believe a word of that, personally.  I think that the human body is neither shameful nor entirely sexual.  I believe that it has a million and one uses, a few of which are sexual, and that sex is awesome.  I think that breastfeeding is entirely natural (as is sex), that it is utterly banal, and that there is nothing scandalous or offensive in feeding a hungry baby using the organs that nature provided you for doing so.

Fact is, breasts make milk.

Fact is, baby mammals survive on milk.

Fact is, human beings are mammals.

One of many places I'm guilty of nursing in public

I make every effort to be discreet when it comes to showing a lot of breast while nursing in public, but I make no effort to hide what I'm doing.  I don't use a nursing cover that completely obscures the baby from view, I like to be able to see my baby when she's nursing.  That way I know if she's uncomfortable, if she's getting ready to drop a latch, or if she's falling asleep.  And I like to be able to look her in the eye.  That eye contact while nursing is positively lovely.

And of course, she likes looking at the world around her.

I've been lucky.  The only times I've been even glared at were when I was nursing the baby in the parked car, which I have had to do now on three occasions... each of which involved very unhappy spectators... particularly odd seeing as how technically, the interior of your car IS private- not a public space.  And, also notable, the only negative responses have been from men.

I'm going to keep feeding the baby when she's hungry, regardless of the place.  But we as a culture need to reevaluate why we object to seeing breasts at all.

Breasts are not sexual organs, they're here to feed babies.

American public- please stop freaking out.  It's only baby food.




*Yes, we are through our nursing hell.  She still latches weirdly on the right side about half the time, but for the most part... she's an eating angel.  Thank you all so much for your support!

Nursing Woes

First things first

The birth story is coming, I promise you that.  But right now, I'd like to talk about nursing RH.  Or rather, the hazards of nursing RH.

She's a good nurser.  She gobbles down milk like no babe I've ever seen.  She chugalugs mightily.  You can hear her little glug glug glugging from across the room.  It's incredibly adorable.

Her latch?  Horrific.

Nursing in the hospital

Utterly terrible.

She has a few problems when it comes to latching.  For one, she holds her tongue to the back of her mouth when she opens up her mouth.  Even when she screams.  No, she has no tongue tie.

That means that, once she latches, she does one of two things.

A) She pushes the nipple out between her gums while she sucks it back and forth.  This is excruciating.  She also sometimes manages to catch a bit of areola in between her gums and lip while she's doing this.
B) She scrapes the front of the nipple incredibly hard with her tongue while she sucks.

Sometimes she does both.

This results in purple and blue, scraped and bleeding, achy nipples of constant misery.  Sometimes with blistered areolas.  Yes, that it every bit as painful as it sounds.

Of course, once she's had a few gulps and starts to get sleepy, I can disengage her and re-latch.  A couple of tries in and she's latched fine- happily chugging away and not causing anybody any pain.  At that point, nursing becomes positively lovely.

Before that can happen though, there is the first part.  The part where I am terrified of putting my nipple into her mouth, lest she mutilate me some more.  The part where I scream and cry and thrash, trying not to cause any more damage before I can get her the hell off of me.

Four nurses in the hospital evaluated our feedings.
My doulas watched this procedure.
RH's pediatrician has chimed in.
They all agree.

There's basically nothing I can do.

The girls know that this is how babies eat

She's getting better, but as she gets better, she also gets stronger.  And as she gets stronger, she gets more aggressive.  She has over the last thirty six hours (or approximately twenty nursings) discovered that she is a speed demon.  She is now capable of snapping her jaws just and beginning to suck so fast you can't even see it happen.  So fast, the my nipple ends up caught perpendicular in between her gums while she begins to suck hard enough to move a golf ball through a garden hose.

There is nothing I can do to fix this, but to wait.  To try to be patient and keep correcting her latch.  While my nipples swell and ache and bleed and maintain a vivid purple color.

The thing is, this isn't exactly unusual.

This is the third baby I've nursed, and the second who seemed determined to inflict pain in the early days.

SI?  She was vicious.  Entirely different, though.  She would get her latch, she would nurse perfectly for a few moments, and then she would clamp her jaw shut like a vice.  There was no opening it.  And I would scream and cry and beg and plead, and do my best to pry her tiny jaw open, all to no avail.

DD was a perfect nurser, almost from the word go.  She never did anything to cause me pain until the day she weaned.

So I know how this goes.  I went through six weeks of agony with SI before she just nursed like you always assume a baby is "supposed to."

And now here I am with RH.  Who keeps fixing one problem, only to invent a new method of torture.

Only this time, DD and SI are around to watch.

DD is terrified whenever I start to nurse the baby.  She wants to know if RH is going to hurt me, if she's biting me, if I'm going to cry, if I'm okay.

She's making cute little noises!

I feel so guilty.

And Grandma and M... they don't like it either.  I wouldn't if I were them.  But frankly, their repeated suggestions that I pump and let somebody else take a turn feeding her for a day just make me mad.  I don't WANT to take a break.  I worry that taking a break is just going to set her back instead of moving her forward.  But it's tempting.  Because my nipples?  They're usually in agony.

Yes, I want to pump.  That's because I have such ridiculous over supply.  Because frequently, RH will torment my nipples and then have nothing to eat.  But I *like* nursing.  You know, once the ungodly awful part has passed.

I'll snap at M about it.  But I won't snap at my MIL.  I'm too grateful that she's here, taking care of my home and my toddlers while I'm recovering.  (The three of them baked delicious sweet potato muffins today.  Who could complain?)  But I'm just going to keep up putting my nipples directly in harm's way and trying to stifle the screams.  And trying anything I can think of to make them hurt a little less.

Gel nursing pads keep them raw, but help with the bruising.  They make my nipples ache each time I take them off.

Cloth nursing pads stick tot the drying blood and then peel away the scabs when I try to take them off.

No nipple shields mean that I'm constantly leaking milk on myself.

Every time a cool breeze goes by, my nipples scream.  Every time I step into the shower, each drop of water makes me wince.  When DD or SI or even M try to give me a hug, a flinch away from the pressure against my chest.

Nursing?  Not so glamorous.

I know it's going to get better.  I know it is.

I know how to get us a good latch.

Me and my girls- you'll be seeing a lot more of this picture

I know what a good latch feels and looks like.  I know how nursing works- I was an awesome cow for almost ten months with my twins.

But I am a sore and tired cow this time around.

One week down.  One week of improved nursing, one week of improved attacks.

Hopefully this time next week things will be better.

Hopefully.

And if not, I suppose at least I have one recourse when it comes to bolstering my spirits that was denied to me for most of the last year.

At least now I can pour myself a drink.




FYI- My MIL is awesome.  As I type this, I am eating pigs in blanket (with fake pigs) and a spinach/strawberry/raisin/almond salad with black currant vinegar, she has put my children down for a nap, and she is snuggling my infant.  She is awesome, and I mean no disrespect whatsoever.




...also, I have spoken with a lactation consultant, who is perplexed enough that she's making a house call this week.  Here's hoping I'm doing something wrong and she can fix it.

Parenting on Instinct

Baby wearing love

I'll admit it.  When I was pregnant, I was totally lost.  I had no idea what I was going to do with a baby- for those first six months I really couldn't think of anything that babies DID.  I figured it was a weird time of limbo where you just waited for your child to finally get... interesting.

I did a few of the standard pregnant and clueless things.  I bought a few books, I accepted sometimes completely contrary advice from anyone who would offer, and did what I do best.  I decided to wing it.

Now, I know that it might seem to you out that I officially subscribe to a few defined parenting techniques.  I never did that on purpose.  Everything that I've done as a mother has been done following a few basic guidelines.

Breastfeeding love

What's best for the babies?
What's best for ME?

Best for the babies?  Breast feeding.  Best for me?  Moving the girls to their own room.  Best for the girls?  Baby wearing.  Best for me?  Potty training.  Starting last week, sort of.

We use cloth diapers because of the environmental impact, but more importantly because I think it's best for the girls to be aware of their bodily functions and to avoid the nasty rashes that come from artificially dried poo.  We breast fed until the girls self-weaned, because the human breast milk is ideal baby food, and they were happy to eat as much of it as they could.  I made most of their solid baby food, because I knew every ingredient was natural, healthy, and delicious.  I was constantly shocked at what Gerber and the like will put gelatin into.  That said, we're keeping the girls on a vegetarian diet until they're old enough to make an informed decision on their own.  It all seems pretty crunchy, huh?

Solid food love

But I never let myself feel like I HAD to do (or not do) something because of some ideal of granola parenting.  I supplemented with formula without giving myself a guilt complex- hell, nursing twins at all was an accomplishment, I wasn't going to treat myself like a failure if I wasn't always able to produce enough milk for two hungry babies.  I got my kids vaccinated on the pediatric recommended schedule- I wouldn't know what the measles looked like if I saw it, and frankly the same goes for whooping cough and mumps.  I moved my kids into their own room when they were about four months old.  After all, they comforted each other better than I could, and we all slept better.

In short, I've been basing my entire parenting philosophy on instinct.  Does this feel like the right thing to do?   Do I feel like this is a good idea? 

I found as I was reading parenting books- ALL of them- that I found the authors at best irritating and at worst complete idiots.  The multiple specific books were no doubt the worst of the lot.  I constantly felt like I was being talked down to, and if there's one thing on this earth that is guaranteed to enrage me, it's condescension.  I stopped reading parenting books before half of the full shelf I'd acquired had even been opened.  I just couldn't be bothered.  I obviously knew best.

Sleep-in-your-own-room love

And I still felt like I didn't know anything.  It was all a matter of watching my children, listening, and trying to figure out what they were trying to tell me.  I introduced solid foods as soon as the girls started acting really interested.  I stopped breastfeeding when they made it clear that they were just plain done.  I started vaguely potty training when they started acting upset about being around their own feces.  (And I'm totally flying by the seat of my pants here, too.  Right now my version of potty-training is a lot of "see Mommy using the potty?" and reading potty-themed books.  They know what the potty is, and I think they're starting to get an idea of what it's for.  So far, we haven't even tried actually using it for its intended purpose.)

Book worm love

We human beings are bad at remembering that, fundamentally. we're ANIMALS.  We're mammals, primates, bipedal, social, verbal... those are the things that define most of our development.  The things that we do for babies are completely tied up in being those things.  Being a highly civilized creature just complicates matters.  Everything about having a baby is primal- from pregnancy until the child is functionally verbal.  So as far as the parenting of my own babies is concerned, I guess you could say that I've reverted to some kind of inner animal nature.

I think my kids are remarkably close to perfect.  So is it undignified that I tend to think of us as neanderthals in order to get through the immeasurably difficult years of baby- and toddler-hood?  Perhaps.  But it's working.  It makes me feel good about our lives and every milestone my children reach, and I have no regrets whatsoever.

The parenting choices that M and I have made have made all of us very happy animals.

More about Instinctual Mamas:
Instinctual Mamas
Instinctual Mamas on Facebook

Bottles, Breasts, and the Brouhaha

I am, generally, a pretty hippie-dippy kind of person. I went into my experiment of motherhood determined to do a few things that I thought were Very Important.

The first was to have a natural childbirth experience. I've spent 40 hours getting tattooed, I was sure that as many as 40 hours of labor couldn't be much worse than that.

The second was to breastfeed- exclusively- for six months.

Surprise, surprise, neither of those were the case. Having multiples can really throw your plans out of order. But I learned some very interested trivia regarding my failure to have a natural birth.

Most women who carry multiples are not young and healthy. Most commonly, they are over 35 or obese. Both of those conditions carry with them the sorts of hormonal imbalances that tend to lead to multiples. Similarly, most women who undergo assisted fertility treatments that result in multiples are over 35.

Being under the age of 30 makes you significantly less likely to carry multiples to term. Likewise, having a multiple pregnancy as your FIRST pregnancy has the same effect.

What that meant for me was experiencing a sudden placental abruption at 35 weeks pregnant and having an emergency c-section. It was absolutely nothing like what I had tried so hard for, or wished for just as much. If I had my way, I would have been having one baby- probably at home- with no drugs and nobody pushing formula.

But we can't always get what we want, can we? And I DID get what I most wanted, remarkably sweet, cuddly, and healthy babies.

Of course, having premature babies meant that everyone in the hospital was pushing as hard as they could to get us to give the babies formula. They weren't small for twins- they totaled almost ten pounds together- but for a single baby they were just tiny. They didn't nurse well, and they were so easily tired, and so thin... The doctors and nurses, even those who worked tirelessly with me to help get my girls a good latch and plenty of natural booby food, advocated for supplementing with formula as well. And it didn't take much convincing for me to agree. All I wanted, and all most parents want, was to do what it took to make sure my babies would be healthy.

Now, I had and have heard all kinds of horror stories about nipple confusion, about a baby rejecting the breast in favor of formula if they eat it too early on, about the virtues of a virgin gut. And I generally agree. I generally think that breast is best, and that it's what human babies are SUPPOSED to eat. But I also think that formula was invented for a reason.

I've been hearing a lot from my friends in the breastfeeding community about the evil formula corporations and their campaign against nursing. There's a lot of terrifying truth to it, because formula makes money and breast milk doesn't there's plenty of money to be made in convincing mom's to abandon nursing in favor of formula. But honestly? I think a lot of those folk are carrying it too far.

Is formula harmless? No, it's not. It isn't as good for your child, it's more likely to contribute to lactose intolerance later, and your child misses out on all the vital antibodies you could be passing along. But the idea that a "virgin gut" is going to somehow improve your child's life is terribly silly.

As anyone knows who's seen a baby play, they put absolutely everything in their mouths. And this is important- if they don't introduce dirt and boogers and other icky things into their system in nice small doses, they'll never develop their own immune system. Our hyper-sterile environment is contributing to the rising instances of allergies and immunity problems. Formula isn't poison, it's just not as good as breast milk. The breastfeeding advocates who scare parents away from formula are no better than those who scare parents away from nursing- because both of them are breaking one of the cardinal rules of parenting.

Whatever allows you to be a better parent IS better parenting. If you are too stressed out and too exhausted by nursing to care for your child, maybe you want to supplement with formula. Let daddy take over the night feedings and let you sleep for a change. If your let-downs are so painful that nursing reduces you to tears every time, why continue to resent your child for all of that pain?

Breast is best, absolutely, but NOTHING is better than a functional parent. A mommy terrified that she's actively hurting her children by making her life livable is not a functional parent.

I think, in a perfect world, every mother would try to breastfeed exclusively for as long as is possible, and then begin finding the arrangement that works best for their own family.

If that includes formula, then in includes formula. If it doesn't, bully for you! But stop bullying other moms into thinking that they must be failing if they aren't meeting your own standards.

Motherhood is hard. Parenting is hard. There is no instruction manual, and the group-think conventions change constantly.

At nearly eight months old, my girls get a maximum of eight ounces of formula a day, including the formula I frequently mix with their cereal. If they have a lactose intolerance as adults, so what? I'm practically vegan already, I can't imagine it damaging their quality of life. And most importantly, those few ounces of formula allow me to function completely in my daily life- to sleep solid eight hour nights, to eat meals and finish most tasks, to complete my homework and even sew the occasional dress. And those little girls are thriving, virgin guts or no.

As a parent, I offer this advice. Do what works, and ignore anybody who tries to scare you into doing things differently. You're the parent- YOU are the authority now. Maybe not on every child, but at least on your own. There is a phrase you must commit to memory, that you will use a thousand times, and more often than not you will not be directing it at your children. Learn it well, and heed, so when somebody tries to tell you how badly you're screwing up you can say it loud and proud-

"Because I said so."

"Breast is Best" v. Hysterics

I went into parenthood DETERMINED to nurse my children. I didn't know how long I would do it, and I still have no real concept of when that will end. We're going strong at 6+ months, and the pediatric recommendation is a full year, but my understanding is that children generally self wean between 8 and 18 months old. Yeah, big window.

The global average for length of nursing is actually four years, but that's the GLOBAL average. By most accounts, a majority those children would have been long weaned if there was anything else to feed them. Or any other available method of birth control. Breast milk is amazing, and has health properties that we're only just beginning to uncover. Did you know that you can use breast milk to treat throat cancer? I digress...

I had set myself a six month goal for nursing my babies. I figure, six months is pretty damn good, and nursing twins is HARD, right?

Good lord... I had no idea.

You see a little cat with a litter of six kittens just serenely laying there while the babies nurse away and you think, "That's the simplest, most natural thing in the world!" No. Absolutely not. Nursing is HARD, nursing is COMPLICATED, and human babies- unable to hold up their heads, roll over, or smile at you in thanks, can hurt your poor breasts more than you can possibly imagine.

One word. Suction. Suction is amazing. Using suction, you can life massive weights. You can clean your carpets. You can cause hematomas.

Babies develop the sucking instinct around 35 weeks gestational age. That means that if your baby is born full term, they shouldn't have too much trouble sucking that milk out.

The thing is, new babies are not patient. And they don't empathize (yet). And they have no concept of their mother as a human being. No, to a newborn baby, mommy exists for baby's warmth, comfort, and food. And baby will take what's theirs.

A newborn will latch hard, badly, and start sucking. If they're not getting enough, they might BITE you. HARD. And the fact that there are no teeth in that little jaw is irrelevant. That's the strongest muscle group in their bodies.

So imagine for a minute that you have a vice, attached by suction, clamping on your VERY tender nipple. Because you get all sore just for this very special moment. Now imagine that they're PUSHING YOUR NIPPLE AWAY as hard as they can, while maintaining that amazing suction. Oh yes, you'll survive. But never forgetting this ominous phrase- "Permanent nipple damage." Because pulling out your nipple without breaking suction? Oh yeah. Bad.

And there's always insult to the injury. When your nipples are black and blue, swollen and sore, that's when you're most likely to get an infected or clogged milk duct. And the best way to fix that? Yeah, more nursing.

From most of the moms I talk to, my assertion that it takes 4 months to "establish nursing" is just about right. You got that, four months of this. And they'll lull you into a false sense of security. You'll think that two weeks of perfect nursing means that you're finally through it all, that now you can lie back like the little kitty and let nature do it's beautiful thing. And that's when the growth spurt kicks in and the little bugger starts mutilating you again.

Then you have your loved ones weighing in. They hear you scream with pain, or see your breasts swollen with mastitis, and they tell you that it's okay to stop. This is what formula is for, and you've done your best but it's okay to just go ahead and give the baby a bottle. But you don't. Because you're going to be the best effing mother ever, and god damn if you're going to let something like half an hour of agony eight times a day stop you. And all that tension makes it impossible for you let let down, and you just get hurt more and more and more, and then you start to cry.

And crying will save you. Because those hormones that make you cry also make the milk come. And starting one kick starts the other. So you sob, weep, wail, and curse, and then the baby eats. Oh, it still hurts, but at least you're fulfilling your biological duty.

You will freak out your co-parent. You will freak out your baby. But hell, what do your tears matter? The tears of a mother are irrelevant- you cry so that baby doesn't have to. You brought that baby into the world in pain, and with pain you'll keep it here so help you.

...I understand Jewish grandmothers more every day.

But it ends. Nursing becomes established. And the clogged ducts and the purple nurples cease. And you're left with the weaning question.

I had decided that "at least six months" was a good goal. But if it takes four or five months to get good at it, why stop right away? I mean, a four month investment for a two month return? Screw that. I'm nursing until either they self wean, or they can walk up to me and ask me to nurse them. Because that's when things will start getting awkward.

And now, when they're teenagers and I won't let them borrow the car, I can tell them it's because I nursed them through all the pain and mastitis and that they can go ahead and give that a shot if they want to go to Julie's cabin in the woods.

Parenting Hurdle- Sleeping

I've been a parent for a solid six months plus, and during that time I have had two infants. Therefore, I feel it safe to claim that I have been parenting infants for over a year.

And of course, this makes me an expert.

Before becoming a parent, I had one great fear. One that I am sure is shared by all parents-to-be world over. That is, the fear that one will never have a full nights of sleep again, will never feel well rested, and will never wake up leisurely in their beds with nothing but the morning sun in their eyes and the sound of chirping birds in their ears.

To be fair, that last part will probably never happen. I don't know about you, but just having stuff to do on a regular basis kept me from having those lovely luxurious mornings. But hey, there's always Mother's Day, right?

As for feeling well rested and actually getting that full night's sleep on a regular basis- it can happen. Hell, it WILL happen. And I have learned that with a few tricks and a little flexibility, there's no reason it shouldn't happen AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. So without further ado, my prescription for a sleeping baby for a whole night.

To start, you keep your expectations for those first two months as low as you can. Babies don't like coming out of the womb, in my nigh year of experience, and they're going to wake up. Viciously, as though they know that you're finally having a nice time without them. But this is a short lived phenomena. From the time they weigh about ten pounds, or are two months old, there's no reason they shouldn't sleep through the night.

Keep them in your bedroom at night for the first two months. You'll get to know their patterns, you'll get to know their noises, you'll get to keep checking on them to make sure they're breathing (you know you will, you crazy-ass mamas). Keep them in the room with you for those two months, and you'll feel more and more confident that they're still breathing when you're not looking, that they're not going to wake up, and that they're not missing you while they're sleeping.

A key to getting babies to sleep in the first place- learn to swaddle your baby. Swaddling will save you over and over again, and until the baby is routinely kicking the swaddle off in the night, it is safe to lay them in their crib wrapped in a blanket. A small, thin, swaddling blanket. Not an afghan or comforter.

Whenever you put them in the crib, turn on some white noise. A radio tuned to static, a constantly running El outside the window... we like a sound machine playing the sound of the ocean. That white noise will save your life.

Decide on bedtime based on THEIR patterns. Which brings me to my first General Rule of Parenting: You are not in charge of your children. You got that, you're not in charge. You might get to be someday soon, but until you have ANY way of genuinely communicating with them, the only thing you can do is respond. So get over it, and learn to bend over backwards for a few months. And yes, this General Rule will be absolutely contradicted in the future.

The chances are very good that your baby will want to go to sleep for the night between 8pm and 10pm. And anytime in that window is fine. I don't recommend going too much earlier, because you'll be awake that much earlier, but whatever works for you is what will work.

Now that you know when you two month old's bedtime is, your baby is swaddled, you have your white noise, and you know that your baby will sleep peacefully for at least a few minutes, you want to stretch that few minutes into a full night.

Start by feeding the baby until they will not eat any more.

Before the shout-down begins, hear me out.
Infant eating habits do not dictate lifetime eating habits. What is good for an infant might not be good for a grown up, but you must keep in mind the second General Rule of Parenting: Whatever keeps you functional is by default good parenting. So yeah, you're going to stuff your baby silly.

If you're nursing exclusively, you might find this an odd bit of advice. How can you keep offering food if you can't actually control what you're producing? Ah, but you can! In the evenings, you must pump after each feeding! Your breasts accommodate the demand placed on them. Most women find that they produce less milk in the evening to begin with, so from the get-go, if you want that early sleep, you should be pumping after each post meridial feeding. This way, you'll be producing more and more in the evenings, giving you the opportunity to stuff that baby silly come bedtime.

The controversial part. Consider adding a bottle of formula anyway. Formula is harder to digest, meaning that babies feel fuller longer. Yeah, I know, 100% formula is best. But you know what's better? Having a full night of sleep that lets you deal with the screaming and vomiting and diapers the next day. Because you're not hurting your baby by giving them a bottle. When they ONLY get a bottle at the end of the day, they're not associating it with giving up the breast, they're associating it with a full night's sleep.

Yes yes yes, breast is best. But better than ideal nutrition for your baby is a mommy who can be SuperMommy all freakin' day the next day, because she's had enough sleep. Because it doesn't matter how nutritional your food is when the grown up taking care of you is huddled in a corner sobbing and eating cheese curls because they have no idea why they thought they could be a mother. The more functional you are, the better off your child is. Period.

Really don't want to do formula? Go ahead and offer expressed milk. In a cup or in a bottle, but either way- get a bottle that's as breastlike as you can. Stay away from Dr. Brown styles, it's wrong philosophy entirely. I would recommend the Adiri company's Natural Nursers, but they sadly succumbed to the poor economy a few months ago. There are similar styles out there, though, and there's always overstock.com.

In my nigh 12 months of parenting, I have found that these bottles cause no nipple confusion with infants. But more on nursing and nipple confusion later.

You've stuffed your two month old baby silly, swaddled them, laid them in the crib, and turned on the white noise. Now just let them sleep. If they wake up, pick them up and put them back to sleep. Sing a lullaby, walk them around the white noise filled room, or just shush them gently for a while. I have found that, unless the baby is sick, covered in feces, or wet all the way through, they will fall asleep again within 20 minutes. Usually less than 10. And you can go to sleep. In my experience, this waking up again will also occur within the first three hours of being laid down. If they wake at the tail end of this three hours and WILL NOT SETTLE, nurse them. they're not going to eat much, but nursing is sort of like baby Xanax. It rocks- and once again, expect a nursing entry or twelve in the near future.

The big question will raise its ugly head- do you let the baby "cry itself out?" Let's face it, you're going to try once in a while. And that's fine. But don't make it a general rule. Again, revert to the priority list of baby/mommy health- a functional parent is paramount in child rearing. If you NEED to let that baby scream for 20 minutes (it will not take any longer if they are going to "cry it out"), doing it once in a while isn't going to hurt them. It will hurt the bedtime routine though. The more they trust that you're still there, the better they'll sleep the next night.

You will feel guilt. You will feel shame. You will feel relief. And you will probably cry and eat a block of baker's chocolate.

And then you will get a good night's sleep and wake up ready to be the best damn mommy ever.

Following this system, you should be getting a solid ten hour block of sleep from your babies by the time they're 10 weeks old.

Impossible? Never- nothing is impossible for SuperMommy.