Tina Fey and Breastfeeding

My sister gave me Bossypants for mother's day because I like Tina Fey and there is a cute chapter which is a prayer for her daughter.



I was happily reading along when I got to the chapter about breastfeeding. I immediately thought, "Uh-oh. I have a feeling I'm not going to like this." Irony: I was reading this book while breastfeeding Virginia. It happens to be a good time to get in some reading.

Tina begins by talking about how all the breastfeeding literature you get from the doctor saying breastfeeding is best, but is full of adds for formula. She talks about her own struggles with breastfeeding and how after a couple of attempts to breastfeed after her daughter's birth she ended up going with formula.

This is a common enough story and sad for the women who really wanted to breastfeed. But Tina takes out her regrets (or guilt, or whatever other negative emotion mothers inflict on themselves) on women who are pro-breastfeeding.

She complains about "Teat Nazis." These are the women who talk about breastfeeding too much? Are too enthusiastic about it? Are too insistent about the positives of breastfeeding? I wasn't quite clear.

When I finished the chapter I was mad. But, of course, I couldn't argue with her without coming off as a "Teat Nazi." Well played, Tina.

Then I tried to step back and really think about things. What about this quotation from earlier in the book:

When I worked at Saturday Night Live, I had a five A.M. argument with one of our most intelligent actresses. It was rumored that Lorne was adding another woman to the cast, and she was irate. (In fairness, she was also exhausted. It was five A.M. after writing all night.) She felt there wouldn't be enough screen time to go around.
I revived my old argument: How could this be true if we made up the show? A bunch of us suggested that they collaborate instead of compete. And, of course, that's what they did, with great success, once they were actually in a room together. But where does that initial panic come from?
This is what I tell young women who ask me for career advice. People are going to try to trick you. To make you feel that you are in competition with one another...

The competition is an illusion. We (women) don't always need to be threatened by each other, whether the "other" is new actress or a mother who parents differently. Maybe if we work together we can all be happier and do more. Tina Fey taught me that.

Sleep

Sleep is a big issue for people with small children. Virginia has been going through a sleep regression. She doesn't make it the whole night in her own bed most nights. But I am okay with this for two reasons:
1) She has a lot going on that could be disturbing her sleep. New teeth. New neurons firing in her brain from her massive language developments. Frequent day care sniffles. Etc.
2) Once I move her to my bed I get to go back to sleep. When I get to sleep I am a happy person.

I don't do cry-it-out, and I am not making a judgment on people who do, but it isn't for me. Early on when I discovered all the mommy blogs out there I remember reading one person's assertion that we have to teach our children that sleep is safe. This makes so much sense to me. How do babies know they are safe when they wake up alone in a dark room? They are evolutionarily programed to know they can't fend for themselves. Furthermore, as a grown woman, I still don't always feel safe when I wake up alone. I consistently had problems sleeping when I lived by myself in a studio apartment in Tuscaloosa. I know what that feels like. I know it's natural. I don't want to train Virginia to not cry. I want her to not cry because she knows she is safe.

And there are still some nights she spends the whole night in her crib. I know she wakes up, rearranges herself, and goes back to sleep on those nights. Those nights she doesn't cry because she doesn't need anything.

All this being said, her sleep regression has recently manifested as her not falling asleep while I am nursing her at night. She used to nurse to sleep most of the time, but now it is hit or miss. The problem is that John can't seem to get her to sleep at all, so I'm left wondering what to do with this awake baby who wants to get down and play.

When I turn out her light she knows she isn't leaving the room. The first couple of nights I did this there were tears. But as I held her in my arms she laid her head on my shoulder and slowly accepted that she needed to sleep. I hated to let her cry even then. But I felt that since I was holding her, she at least knew she wasn't alone. I have continued to take this approach and she has stopped crying. When the light goes out she really tries to fall asleep in my arms. Sometimes it takes a little while, but she is trying. And she always knows she is safe.

Those nights when she wasn't falling asleep and I felt like I had no strategies and John had no strategies were tough ones. But it seems like we are finally getting through it. And I have to admit that I have had some really sweet mornings waking up to a happy baby tapping me on the arm until I open my eyes, then saying, "Hi!"

Breastfeeding and Surgery

At nearly 17 months old Virginia is still nursing: morning, night, and after any time we've been apart for several hours - like when she gets home from day care. Oh, and also in the middle of the night if she ends up in bed with me and John.

One of my biggest concerns going into the surgery was what would happen to our nursing relationship. I know Virginia eats well enough that it wouldn't be a big deal if she stopped nursing, but I want it to happen naturally, when she is ready. Plus, I think the antibodies are key since she gets sick pretty frequently from day care germs.

At my pre-op appointment my doctor said I couldn't nurse for 24 hours after being under anesthesia, but the pain meds she was prescribing were fine to use while nursing (same stuff c-section mothers get). I was glad to know all this ahead of time. I pumped a little milk for Virginia in the days leading up to the surgery so John could hopefully pacify her during the first 24 hours. Then I pumped and dumped when I couldn't nurse her.

This was a difficult time for both of us, but we got through it and Daddy was a life saver!

So, after 24 hours my milk wasn't toxic, but how was I supposed to nurse my 20 lb toddler when my abdomen was full of CO2 and I had three recently stitched up wounds? My solution was to put a pillow over my belly. Virginia sat on my lap facing me and leaned over the pillow to nurse. I also didn't offer to nurse her if she came to bed with us in the middle of the night for a couple of nights. Thankfully, she felt contented enough just being near me and John.

This arrangement was okay at first but after a couple of days I realized the milk wasn't fully draining from my breasts and my nipples were getting sore, so the pillow was probably causing a bad latch. I started letting Virginia nurse without anything between us and I was just really careful. Her leaning her body on me turned out to be not bad. I just had to avoid hands or knees jabbing me. After I got more confortable laying on my side I let her nurse in bed again, too.

So now we are pretty much back to normal, although I am still recovering. Yesterday Virginia asked to nurse an unprecedented two times between our normal morning and evening feedings even though it was Saturday and we spent a lot of time together.

I think she is missing other ways we are usually close that are hard for me while I am recovering. I can't hold her for a long time because I have to hold her up high over my incisions. I can't rough-house with her on the floor and fall down theatrically when she nudges me. I can let her sit in my lap but I'm wary of her throwing herself backwards into me - so we do that carefully.

The hardest thing about all of this has really been not being able to snuggle her as much. But, thankfully, she is still nursing as much as she wants to and we should be able to keep going strong until she is ready to stop.