I’ve discovered there are different truths for everyone when it comes to breastfeeding.

Burpie time when he      was a little bitty

However, I have also discovered there are universal truths for every…single… mom who decides to make this relationship a top priority. Every mother and child relationship varies from another. Some find their journey almost unbearable in the beginning, but like second nature once things progress. Other moms never have any difficulty in production, latching, or convenience. (Bless Them.)

Below are a few statements I have discovered to be true when speaking with any mom on the breastfeeding.

Not all Breastfeeding Journies are the same

Prior to my sons birth I watched videos on latching. I read blogs on milk production. I also studied every breastfeeding hold there is. None of this really prepared me for what would be my journey with my child.

I learned that babies born prematurely will have a harder time than babies born closer to their due date. Some babies are born with tongue or lip ties that make latching near impossible or can cause extreme pain for mommy. And then there were some mothers that I learned never have a single issue.

From the beginning, I discovered that what Gabriel and I had set before us was uniquely ours. It was a groove that we were going to have to find and a trust we were going to need to build in order to save what was beginning as a set up for failure. Between unapproved formula being administered to my child to nipple shields, we had serious kinks to work out in order to save our unique journey.

You May Not Be Supported

15 months old

Some people just do not understand breastfeeding. Other’s may have had a bad experience and quit early on may try to make you believe that you will, too. They may use phrases like, “You can use formula if this doesn’t work,” or “Don’t be discouraged if in a few days you realize how hard this really is and want to give up.”

While it would be fantastic for all moms to support you, or be amazing to not worry if someone is going to give you a dirty look in the restaurant, this isn’t always the case. You will get stares, you will feel unsupported at times and you will have to simply ignore it.

It is an Emotional Journey

Breastfeeding is the one thing my son and I share that no one else gets to share with him. We women carry our child for 9 months and we go through all that it entails. Once our baby has arrived, they can be quickly “taken” from us and passed around to each grandparent, aunt, friend or in-law there is. Breastfeeding is a way to ensure that mommy and baby have their much-needed time together. It is beneficial and crucial, not only in the first few months, but even for seasoned relationships.

When baby is sick, tired, hurting, teething, scared, clingy, nervous, or unsure, breastfeeding offers a safe haven.

It is what is best for you and your child because it is the path you have chosen.

“The advantages of breastmilk are so astounding that if pregnant women were required mandatory education on the benefits of breastfeeding prior to giving birth, I truly believe that more moms would not only decide to forego the formula, but that they would *try harder when times felt tough.”

*Not intended for those with supply issues or that simply can’t breastfeed.

Not only is it best health wise, it is best because it honestly does not matter if you decide to breastfeed 3 weeks, 3 months, or 3 years. The length of time you breastfeed is what is best for you both because that is your decision.

And it is okay if people don’t get that. It is okay if they think you need to stop. It is okay if they silently criticize. They aren’t your child’s parent.

We are 20 months in.

Breastfeeding Isn’t without Challenges

There may be clogged ducts, mastitis, cracked nipples, latching issues, low milk supplies, and more. But there is also education on each and every one of these challenges. Through research, blogs, support groups like mine on Facebook and counselors or consultants, there is help to overcome these obstacles.

Not all Pediatricians will be supportive or fully educated on breastfeeding. Some may make you feel you aren’t producing enough milk. Some may not understand why you decided to delay feeding solids until baby is a year old. Some may think it selfish and just for your own gain and self pleasure that you are taking this route. Unless your child is malnourished or lacking vital nutrients, then either ignore snide and blatant remarks or find a Pediatrician that is supportive.

Finally, Breastfeeding is for you and your child alone

It can be for the mom who wants to pump and breastfeed, for the mom who wants to supplement and breastfeed, and for the mom who wants to breastfeed exclusively and on demand. It can be for the mom who chooses extended breastfeeding.

Whatever breastfeeding looks like for you, Mama, it is yours, you know best, and it is no ones business to tell you otherwise. You just let it go in one ear and out the other and when someone nods in approval, applauds you, or gets you…you just look them in the eyes, smile and know that they get it!!

Nurse on, Mama!!
XOXO

Rachel Price

Rachel is a mom, writer, & advocate for women at her local crisis pregnancy center. She lives in South Georgia where she raises her son alongside her husband. She is currently in training to become a Certified Breastfeeding Counselor.

www.bananasandbreastmilk.wordpress.com

The post The Truth About Breastfeeding appeared first on Breastfeeding World.

Can we all just stop the pretending for a moment?

Who else feels like a disorganized mess?  I mean where is the clean house, the organic home cooked meals, the workout DVD at? Why am I 17 months postpartum and still wearing my maternity jeans?

Why do I feed my child waffles with syrup that may or may not contain high-fructose corn syrup because I forgot to check? And, did that McDonald’s french fry really just slip in my kids mouth without my permission!?!

I am going to lay all my confessions out right here for you

Why? Because I know that profile picture, that selfie, that cute pic of your child laughing… took about 50 takes, and, behind those family portraits? You guys were arguing and getting frustrated between takes.

So, here are my confessions to make you feel better about your life. Sit back and laugh at mine, while reading intended run on sentences, because they increase the intensity of the mess.

I eat ice-cream, daily. I want to lose 50 pounds, but, I eat ice-cream daily.

My house is a wreck. I clean my house on Saturday and by Wednesday… my house is a wreck.

We have enough clothing for a family of 5. We are a family of 3; the majority of our clothes are PJ’s.

Sometimes I wake up and make a healthy breakfast. Sometimes…is really only 5 times in the past 17 months.

I can organize your life in 2 minutes. My life can’t even be organized by Alejandra Costello, the most organized woman in America. But I can whip you into shape really fast.

I look forward to bedtime because I can eat ice-cream; I eat ice-cream daily

My son is 17 months and sleeps in the bed with us. He watches Paw Patrol and Bubble Guppies every night before bed.

He doesn’t sit in a high chair.

Nope, high chairs are for babies. He either sits in this contraption from the 70’s, that was probably recalled because I have never seen one in my life until my MIL gave it to us for our son…OR….he sits on the table, that we don’t have.

I didn’t even clean up the “table” for you

We don’t have a table. Our kitchen leans.

So, plates fall off and chairs are in danger of tipping over, so…We 3 sit at this lovely piece of wood on the wall.

As I type this, in view, is a zebra, a towel on the floor, a book about boundaries (which I need to create), an empty Dr. Pepper bottle, a dying plant, instruction pamphlet for some device, I don’t know what. One flip-flop, a box of diapers…

And…. a grocery sack from Aldi, you know, that inexpensive grocery store? It sits next to a $900 sweater someone didn’t WANT that they thought I would want, but I can’t wear it because it is 4 sizes too small and… I eat ice-cream daily.

Plus, they probably wanted it, but they felt bad for me and figured if I saw this, 4 sizes too small sweater, hanging in my closet, that I would get motivated to not eat ice-cream daily.

It will never fit me.

Yep, I had it all planned out. My entire pregnancy, consuming organic foods; making healthy choices. I was going to walk my “just lost 50 pounds” self every day. When my son was born, he would bathe in only the most organic products. I would slather him in the most fragrant lotions and dress him in the finest clothing. My home would be clean.

I would get out and be present in the world with my son, daily. We would attend play dates. We would be all I ever dreamed as mother and child.

As we all can see, that isn’t happening. And you know what? It’s okay. Because…

We laugh daily.

My son loves when all 3 of us climb in the bed and watch his favorite TV shows.

When Mommy gets brave enough to get the ice-cream out in front of baby, she gives him some and he squeals.

The lack of a kitchen table has prompted us all to squeeze into a tight space and really bond…like, really. It also calls for many picnics outside on a blanket in the backyard.

The wreck of a house I am in, signifies that life is lived here. My son gets to play without being scolded for touching the valuables. He can run free in the kitchen because there is more space without above said table.

And, I have a new piece to add to my family of 5 clothing collection, a $900 sweater to remind me that I once would fit in it, and strut my stuff…but my new 50 pounds heavier body is okay if I don’t anymore.

Well, we are keeping it real, right?

I am semi-okay that I won’t fit in it. The vain part really wants to show it off. But, the reasonable part remembers this body birthed a baby that it wanted for 15 years.

It housed a child that was in danger of being miscarried. This body spent 4 months on the strictest bed rest in order to save the life inside of it. This body continues to nurture the child it bore 17 months postpartum. While there may be messy things in my disorganized life, really it’s okay, because it’s really all just noise.

The laughter, extended breast feeding, cuddling in bed as a family, and picnics outside…those are the memories. And they’re all better with ice-cream.

Rachel Price

Rachel is a mom, writer, & advocate for women at her local crisis pregnancy center. She lives in South Georgia where she raises her son alongside her husband. She is currently in training to become a Certified Breastfeeding Counselor.

www.bananasandbreastmilk.wordpress.com

The post I’m A Mess, But It’s Okay appeared first on Breastfeeding World.

We sat beside one another in Art Class in our Senior Year of High School. He was funny. He was smart. Oh, how he made me laugh, and complimented my artistic style. Over a short period of time I began to develop feelings for him, but I never let him know.

One day after class, he handed me a cassette tape and a note. The note told me he’d been wanting to talk to me and ask me out for weeks. It spoke of my beauty and wit; how charming and sweet I was. It spoke of wanting to make me happy and that pursuit of an exclusive relationship with me was his highest priority. I injected the cassette tape into my best friends player and U2’s ‘With or Without You’ began to seep from the stereo speakers and into my heart as rapidly as she drove out of the school parking lot.

I was officially smitten

Our relationship was a whirlwind. We played and laughed, we sang and danced. We joked and loved hard. Until the day he slapped me right across the face. We were in his bedroom watching television. His mom was preparing their family dinner and his father was in the living room. We had a slight argument and mid-sentence he raised his large hand and whacked it straight across my cheek.

I froze
In shock

He fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around my legs, and sobbed. His body shook and his voice trembled. He begged for my forgiveness and promised it would never happen again. I felt compassion for his remorse.

I forgave him.

As the weeks passed, I eased back into trust in our relationship. It seemed he meant what he said. He kept true to his word; he never slapped me again. Instead, he kicked me – hard – in the stomach. He bit my top lip and drew blood. Sure, he didn’t slap me, he pulled me across concrete, scraping me up. He choked me. He held a knife to my throat. Instead, he whipped me with keys on a long key chain. He raped me. I weighed 98 pounds; he called me fat.

He broke my spirit, sucked all the life from me, threatened to kill my family if I left, and then to make it all better… he would buy me expensive jewelry and clothes. Then, he would take me to dinners and give me flowers. He sang our song as he danced me across the room, stroking my face lightly and promising to never hurt me again.

The old me, was gone.

I could not live with him and I could not live without him. I was being held in a relationship against my own will, through coercion and manipulation. Truly believing everything was my fault. My body was no longer my own, but his.

Domestic violence is an epidemic.

On average, nearly 20 people per minute are physically abused by an intimate partner in the United States. During one year, this equates to more than 10 million women and men. Women between the ages of 18-24 are most commonly abused by an intimate partner. 19% of domestic violence involves a weapon. (National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV))

Visible bruising was rare, he knew how to attack me in a way no one would know. I kept silent about the abuse. When friends noticed he may be a “little” controlling or jealous, I defended him. I dare not let on that their concerns were valid. Doing so would risk not only my life, but possibly theirs.

The beginning of the end came, when I began to gain a little independence

We began our Freshman Year in College. No longer were we surrounded by the walls of our small High School. Gone were the summer days of endless time together. We were pursuing different degrees which meant we would not attend the same classes nor hold the same hours. He joined a fraternity. He had to pass an initiation involving an entire week of having no contact with the outside world, including me. During this time, I rested.

The first day out of initiation he asked me to visit him at his home. His mother was there. The three of us were talking in the living room and his mother began to pick lightly with him. I eased into comfort and joined her. I knew the repercussions, but somehow, I no longer cared.

He was so angry with me, his rage so intense.

As I left to go home, he waited but a second to begin attacking me. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me across the driveway. He slung me in the dirt and started kicking me in the stomach, with steel toed boots. As he started to throw rocks at me his mother ran out of the house and grabbed him. Yelling in his face, threatening him, and challenging him to hit her, she turned to me and gave me my way out. She ordered me never to come back again.

Finally free, I slept for days. I gathered my girlfriends around me and told them about the past two years. We spoke with his Fraternity brothers and made them aware of the situation. I surrounded myself with people who knew and were committed to making sure I was safe. I stayed with different friends over the course of a few weeks so he would never know where I was. At school I made sure I was never alone.

I thought it was over. But, I was wrong.

I was afraid of my family’s disappointment in me, so I never told them of the abuse or the breakup. This was a choice that would lead to a life or death situation.

One morning while home sleeping, my ex stopped by my house. My Grandmother let him in as she had numerous times before. He walked right in my room and sat on my bed. I awoke. He pulled out a gun, cocked it, and held it to my head. He said:

I’ve been driving around all morning wanting to end my life and I thought to myself, why ruin your life when you can eliminate the problem? The problem is you.

My story ends, thankfully, in a way many do not.

The presence of a gun in a domestic violence situation increases the risk of homicide by 500%. Intimate partner violence accounts for 15% of all violent crime. Women between the ages of 18-24 are most commonly abused by an intimate partner. (Statistics – NCADV)

I lay in bed, frozen. Silently, I prayed to God, asking repeatedly that He spare my life. I became so strong over the past few weeks, I earned freedom. I did not want to lose it now that I was unshackled.

My ex stood up, put the gun in his pocket, and walked out of my room. Just…like…that.
I realize that every situation is different. Some of you reading this may be in an abusive relationship or marriage. Some, even with children. Your situation looks dark and scary. You are sure that lives are at stake should you plan to leave. While that may be true; while nothing is ever guaranteed safe, this remains true:

No one deserves to be abused; you can FLEE!!

F – Follow…

a specific plan. Determine where you are going, how you are getting there, and set a date and time to leave. Do not stray from this plan unless an emergency arises.

L – Leave…

with money, clothes, medication, a few personal keepsakes. If you have children, pack one or two items they love that makes them feel safe. Document evidence. Seeing is believing. Unfortunately, there are times when words are not enough. Document with photographs, notes, calls to friends, etc… and take this with you to authorities.

E – Explain…

your situation to the people you trust the most in your life. Break your silence. I know it feels shameful and it may even feel like a betrayal to your attacker. You may be afraid of judgment for staying as long as you did. However, if you have trusted individuals in your life telling them gives you accountability and enhances safety.

E – Evacuate…

On the day you plan to leave make sure there is help present. Professionals are best. If there are none available, please get a trusted friend, Pastor, or Law Enforcement Officer to help you. You can contact your local Law Enforcement Agency or The National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−7233.

My story, unfortunately, does not end here. I did have several years of freedom from physical abuse. However, I later found myself in an 11 year marriage where there was emotional and mental abuse, as well as neglect on many levels. But, this is another story.
Today, I am free. I have been free for 4 beautiful years. I am now in a loving and safe environment with a wonderful husband and a beautiful son. And, I am proof that leaving is possible and there is life outside for you to live in freedom.

October is National Domestic Violence Awareness month. Please strongly evaluate your current situation. You know in your heart where you need to be. You can leave. The benefits far outweigh the risk. You are worth it and your children are as well. Break the silence, break the cycle, and break free; FLEE!

Be sure to join us in our social media accounts and be up to date with the progress of our project!

And… Don’t forget to share your brelfies using our hashtag

#BreastfeedingWorld

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Rachel Price

Rachel is a mom, writer, & advocate for women at her local crisis pregnancy center. She lives in South Georgia where she raises her son alongside her husband. She is currently in training to become a Certified Breastfeeding Counselor.

www.bananasandbreastmilk.wordpress.com

The post Unshackled. Breaking Free From Abuse appeared first on Breastfeeding World.

For me, this innocence is one of the most beautiful things about Motherhood. To witness our children as human beings unscathed; open, raw, vulnerable, trusting…what a gift. As beautiful as this purity is, we know deep down that things change. We can’t control it, so we wish the best for our children. And, naturally our list of dreams to come true are miles long.

Here are my top 3 wishes for my child

Compassion

It amazes me how children, by nature, are compassionate. When I am sad, my son’s intellect communicates that something isn’t right. In our mother/child relationship, our message of healing currently comes through breastfeeding. This is how I offer compassion and how he seeks comfort when he is hurt or sick.

Not long ago I hurt myself. I felt immediate pain, walked away quickly, wincing and crying out. Gabriel came to me and climbed in my lap. He pulled my tank top down and began to nurse. His little heart told him that what comforts him, will bring comfort to Mommy.

Compassion is kindness, kindness is selflessness, selflessness is generosity, and generosity is beauty

Sense of Self

Gabriel knows what he likes

At 16 months old, my son knows what television programs he enjoys. His love for breastmilk, tea, and bananas are no secret. He recognizes who he is and what he wants in only the way a child can. His reality has meaning and purpose because it is filled with the people and things he loves. Life offers him a sense of security that he can be himself without judgment. This safety assists his growth and builds his confidence. And it comes from believing he can do anything.

As the saying goes “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.” Without sense of self this statement is very true. I do not wish this for Gabriel. How unfortunate would it be for his identity to be found in the opinions of others? How disheartening it would be to see him follow the crowd. For him, I want the courage to stand tall in who he was created to be.

While there are many characteristics that I wish for my child, compassion and a sense of self are two traits I pray define his character. But, there is one above all the rest that I want for him now until his dying breath and that is…

Love

Gabriel meeting a baby for the very first time.

“…the greatest of these is love…” If my son offers you his food, it is because he loves you. If he runs to you or smiles when you walk into the room, it is because he loves you. Physical touch and gifts are ways he reaches out to share affection. As you know, physical touch and gift giving are actions.

How many hearts are broken because we have been told “I love you” only to be let down by opposing actions?

In a world where we throw the word love around loosely. I wish for true and honest love to permeate and saturate my son’s heart and soul.I hope that it is so strong, that it has no choice but to seep out and overflow onto others. But, I wish this in a way that is governed by his actions and not just words.

Yes, love can hurt. It can hurt to give and be rejected. The wound burns if love isn’t reciprocated. There are times when love feels like it is taking our heart and ripping it from the ligaments that holds it in place. Love can be hard.

But I wish love more than anything, because love can heal and restore. Love can move mountains. It can bring people out of the deepest pit of depression. Love changes lives, puts others first, and gives selflessly. Love always wins.

And while my wish list for Gabriel runs miles long, if he is never granted but a few, I pray it to be these three.

Because with kindness, sense of self, and love…we all can change the world…and I most certainly believe that he can.

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Rachel Price

Rachel is a mom, writer, & advocate for women at her local crisis pregnancy center. She lives in South Georgia where she raises her son alongside her husband. She is currently in training to become a Certified Breastfeeding Counselor.

www.bananasandbreastmilk.wordpress.com

The post Dear Baby, I Wish For You… appeared first on Breastfeeding World.

I had just turned 37. My husband and I were 6 months shy of our second wedding anniversary. I had been on strict bed rest for 4 months due to cervical funneling and cervical incompetence. For three hours, I pushed and pushed before he made his appearance. The midwives and nurses urged me to say “hello” to my new baby. But, after he finally shot out, I was so exhausted and weary, I simply wanted a nap.

Prior to his birth, well… prior to the digital “pregnant” on the pregnancy test, my life had been what I had always considered crazy and yet, meaningful

I had a “crazy” first marriage, career, dogs, responsibilities, friendships. You name it. Life was a whirlwind. I would go from being dressed in sweats and a tank, as I worked on my health, eating non-gmo, all natural, organic, non-processed, gluten free, non-dairy, soy free meals; to wearing power suits and heels or trendy flats, boarding a plane to Furniture Market in North Carolina for a week. (For those that do not know. Furniture Market is to North Carolina, as Fashion Week is to Paris.)

There I was, successful and accomplished. I had lost 50 pounds, and fell head over heels in love with a wonderful man after a divorce from my ex. We got engaged on the beach, and then had the wedding of my dreams. 9 months later, I was pregnant.

Up until then, I didn’t know what crazy was

And honestly, bless my ignorant heart, I thought I was losing my mind with deadlines and “what to wears”, while I was finding my soul with clean eating and communicating with God on my walks/run. Truly, I didn’t know what it was to lose my mind. I want to hug that sweet girl who thought she had it rough.

Fast-foward

to latching issues, nipple shields, and cracked nipples; clogged ducts and mastitis; spit up projecting into my mouth and sleeping (or wishing for sleep) for days on end, on sheets that were covered in pee and poop. Some pee may or may not have been from me. No one warned me that I may go potty if I so much as sneezed, laughed, or blinked.

Gone was the girl who ran around checking on production and fulfilling the needs of buyers with multi-million dollar companies.

The new girl in town ran around checking for gas drops or, did he need gripe water? And then… fulfilling the needs of a tiny 7 pound human that could not tell me what would make him happy.

Motherhood can seriously make you feel as if you are about to lose your mind

Honestly, in a way, don’t we? We coo, make silly faces, jump up and down, clap and sing. We can go for days without showers. The stink becomes familiar. Our hair stays in messy buns. The trash truck passes our house for 3 weeks in a row because once again, we forgot to take it to the road.

My thoughts range anywhere from, “isn’t he precious?”, to “what would we do if we were to lose our power indefinitely? What if we were run from our homes by people coming to take over our town? If my son could no longer watch his favorite show or have air conditioning, a proper meal, safe shelter, security?!!??!!!”

And do NOT get me started on the pain that grips your soul if your child gets hurt or sick. Especially, if they were hurt because of something you did. My baby has fallen off the bed. I accidentally clipped his skin the first time I trimmed his nails. The phone has dropped on his head mid-breastfeeding. He has scraped his knee and fallen from learning to walk, more times than I care to admit.

My son’s Pediatrician she said, “If this is the worst that happens, be thankful. Babies are going to get hurt and sometimes we will hurt them unintentionally.

“You are not a bad Mother”

I will forever be thankful for that moment.

Yes, motherhood is a beast. The woman who rocked all the latest fashion trends and had a great paying career? Perhaps she is gone. But in her place?

A woman who has lost her mind and found her soul

The sweet smell of milk on my son’s breath. The weight of his little body on my chest. His tiny foot growing, from fitting in the palm of my hand, to barely being able to wrap a fist around it. When he sleeps in the middle of the bed, his head towards his Daddy and his little stinky feet, that I adore, shoved in my face. The cries and extended arms at 3:00 am, reaching, calling “Maaaama, Maaaaama” even though I lay beside him.

Hearing his laughter and giggles of delight, echoing through the house as he runs to hide. The unexpected moments, when I witness, for the first time, that he has compassion, humor, sadness, joy, and love in his tiny heart.

Out goes the doubt and worry

Every sleepless night, missed or cold meal; every impatient moment, flees in times like these and I realize that nothing has ever been this important in my life. I have never felt more beautiful, 50 pounds heavier. I have never felt more loved, adored, and even spiritual.

Motherhood is beautiful, messy, and meaningful. Our soul is found in the quiet moments when we have to be still, patient, and loving. It is found in the dirty hands that reach out to be held. The cries from nightmares that seek mom’s face and scent.

Our souls are strengthened when we learn to give our hearts away, piece by piece, and we realize we are not in control. We are not in control of our clean house, the bills, the way we look, an uninterrupted night’s sleep. We are not in control of our emotions, our ability to predict how our child will react during a day, or our own vulnerability.

But above all, above the mess and the grace, the perseverance and the race… above he daily grind, feeling we have lost our mind – we find we are whole, because in Motherhood, we have found our soul.

Be sure to join us in our social media accounts and be up to date with the progress of our project!

And… Don’t forget to share your brelfies using our hashtag

#BreastfeedingWorld

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Rachel Price

Rachel is a mom, writer, & advocate for women at her local crisis pregnancy center. She lives in South Georgia where she raises her son alongside her husband. She is currently in training to become a Certified Breastfeeding Counselor.

www.bananasandbreastmilk.wordpress.com

The post Motherhood: I Lost My Mind But Found My Soul appeared first on Breastfeeding World.