Friday, 29 November 2013

O Christmas tree.....

So when I was asked recently to make 7 miniature boobs out of old tights I have to say I was a little perplexed.  When I was told they were to decorate a Christmas tree I was further surprised.  You see, Deal Breastfeeding Support Group were taking part in Trinity Church's Festival of Christmas trees.  The thought did cross my mind that not everybody is as 'boob desensitised' as me.  You only need to read the comments section in any news story about breastfeeding to see that certain individuals are fairly prudish when it comes to the exposed female breast (well at least when linked to breastfeeding anyway).  Still I did as I was told and I shouldn't have doubted the group for a second.

I went to see the festival today.  The trees were awesome.  Particular highlights were the 'gravitree'.....

and the 'infinitree' (a tree between 2 mirrors, producing a very cool effect that captured the boy for a good long while).  It was also nice to write a little note on the 'memory tree'. 

The boy kept calling me to see this or that and proclaimed that it had 'made him feel christmasy'.  It's certainly well worth a visit, for just £2 entry per adult.  It's running till Sunday 1st December (10am till 5pm).

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I lingered over the tree by DBSG, the 'Breastfeeding fact-tree'.  Partially because I was earwigging  to see what people were saying about it, but I didn't hear anything interesting enough to write about.
































The most wonderful thing about their tree was that it was totally age appropriate.  Skirting the bottom there were pictures of mammals feeding their young and baubles containing pictures of babies from the group (with a certain little madam I recognise only too well... :) ). 








 


As you moved further up the tree you found the facts and bits of information about the group.  At the very top, to help with a little bit of normalisation, were my creations (which I had ended up having to sew onto Christmas ribbon, much to hubby's amusement) and some slightly more risqué photographs of nursing and images from paintings. 




As usual, DBSG have seized an opportunity and produced something wonderful and, I feel, classy.  People can learn a few interesting facts, pique their interest, and become that little bit more comfortable with breastfeeding.

This normalisation in the community is just so important.  Deal is a pretty safe place to breastfeed in public, DBSG has a high profile and a good reputation which helps.  But as ever, there is a long way to go.  Mum's need to get good support from all parties, good advice from well informed medical professionals and feel comfortable within their own communities.  Watch this space......





Friday, 1 November 2013

LIARS!! (or 'sleep-boasters')

When my son was a baby I used to attend a Friday group for babies under 9months.  I liked it there.  There were no crazy toddlers running around.  It was intimate and quiet.  We used to sit in one big gossipy circle.  There were few of us who breastfed.  I used to feel slightly uncomfortable when my son's cries intimated that I needed to start to strip.  I used to use a cover - something I wouldn't now do in a baby group.  There were many conversations that baffled me.  Many about how many ounces or how many feeds....and I must admit that I occasionally felt uncomfortable when I though about how often I would feed and the fact that I hadn't the foggiest idea how much my skinny little fella actually consumed.  But, y'know, we had made different choices and that was cool.  I kind of wished there were some others like me, but I could live with it.  However a favourite topic was sleep.  I listened as one by one all of my friends declared their babies had started to sleep through.  It ended up being a joke.  I had the baby that didn't sleep.  The last time I went to that group the organiser gave me a leaflet on controlled crying.  I knew it was time to go.

I was so anxious about sleep!  I thought that babies were supposed to sleep through by two or three months.  It was certainly a figure that was bandied about.  My health visitor would ask how he was sleeping and I would meekly tell her that he 'sometimes woke up once or twice' and 'slept in his cot'.  The truth was he woke at least 4 times and spent most of the night in our bed.  I felt like an alien.  Was I doing all this wrong?  On a good day I felt like I was the only one who had it right.  Most days were not good days. 

I beat myself up endlessly.  It didn't help that every visitor's first question was 'how is he sleeping?'.  I was shattered.  I was sick of getting up. My eyes stung and I felt about a zillion years old  But there was not way on God's Earth that I was going to let my baby cry his-self to sleep.  Even if he never slept through.  Even if he slept in my bed for the rest of his life.  It felt like this may be a real possibility too. 

But how the hell was everyone else doing it?  Many were 'self soothing'. I am not going to discuss self soothing.  'If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all'.  Each to their own.   Many were using dummies, white noise, swaddles, sleeping bags, special toys.....endless props.  Well I had bought every damn thing that I thought might work and it never did.  I filled him with painkillers when he was teething.  He was dry, warm, fed......why couldn't I do it?  It left one conclusion.  I was a rubbish mum.  Maybe I was weak, I should have had the balls to let him cry.  Maybe I wasn't very good at being quiet and soothing.  Maybe I wasn't feeding him enough.... AHA.  There's that breastfeeder's self-doubt lingering away there.

He slept through at 10 months by the way.  Which seemed awfully late.

Baby number two has always been a bit of a better sleeper.  Also I have always been a bit more confident about what I am doing which helps.  However something seemed to have happened.  Maybe I started to hang out with different women (and I must say I hang out with a lot of boobie mamas these days), or maybe there's been a sea change.  However suddenly other mums have admitted that they bedshare.  Most of my friends babies don't sleep.  In fact mine is one of the better sleepers.  In fact when I recently got all panicky because she (at 10 months) had started sleeping worse, it was basically laughed off as normal and I was told that I'd had it good up till now.

This time around I know she gets enough milk.  I know she has every damn thing she needs.  I know that the white noise thing isn't going to cut it.  I know that soothing music, pretty lights, a favourite toy will not settle her back to sleep.  And I know something else.  Other women lie.  Not all of them - some have these magic sleeping babies.  But most don't.  And here's how I know it.  A friend recently told me her 10 week old was sleeping through the night.  I expressed surprise (holdiong in the compulsion to shout LIAR!!!!!!!!).  She then said 'well yeah, because technically sleeping for five hour stretches is sleeping through the night.'  Um..... OK, sure she has me there, as I have recently discovered, technically speaking that is considered true. medically anyway. But to me it is a load of ol' cobblers.  Sleeping through means that I don't have to wake up and deal with it.  It means I get to be woken up by something other than a baby.  It means that I don't have dark circles and I can get through a day without caffeine.  Five hour stretches indeed. 

So...those women sat in that circle when I was a naïve new mum.  Claiming that they had special sleeping children...... I don't buy it.  And yet, they made me feed anxious.  They made me doubt my personal brand of milk.  Worst of all, they made me doubt my mothering skills.  I still doubt myself but I am picked up by honest friends who tell me that their dark eye circles are as bad as mine.  I can cope with the hardship when I am part of a club, not when I am the only mum still soldiering on months down the line.

I did read that controlled crying leaflet the lady gave me.  Then I threw it away.  My lack of sleep didn't need solving.  It was a phase.  Same as many of those other women had they chosen to admit it.  So, be wary of the 'sleep-boasters'. 

Oh and for the record, my 10 month old wakes at least twice in the night.  Yes it annoys me.  No I'm not going to do anything about it, other than feed her back to sleep like I've done since the day she was born.


“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”   Dr Seuss

Friday, 13 September 2013

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to express at work I go.....

So it's been a bit quiet on this blog because I am working my freaking socks off in my actual job.  I'm back, part time (so amazing). 

I was very apprehensive about my return but it has been wonderfully smooth.  The main thing is that the kids are OK.  My son is loving being back at nursery and the only sign of any disruption is a slight backward step in his potty training.  My daughter seemingly has been quite happy and has slept in my absence, which, given that I breastfeed her to sleep, is quite a shock.

Expressing at work is weird.  I've never had to do it before.  Firstly, I was quite fussy about where to express.  This is largely because I am a teacher - I have to know that I am secure.  I cannot tell you how horrified I would be to have a pupil in any way aware of what I was up to.  So, I needed a maximum security room, which I have.  But then comes the issues with the deed itself.  It's a bit weird to be getting my boobs out at work.  It's also hard to express well when I am anxious about the noises of the pupils running around outside and bashing into the door even though I know I am safe.  Plus their noise is distracting.  It takes a while for the milk to flow and I'm not surprised.  I worry about the noise.  I know it's only a quiet click and there would be nobody that would even care enough to even waste their time worrying about what was going on within the room, but it still makes me nervous.

It is lovely to spend a few minutes of my day doing something for my baby girl.  To have an enforced pause in my chaotic and busy day.  I am going to have to be strict with myself about finding the time. 

Wandering around with my milk extraction kit is uncomfortable too.  I have squirrelled my manual pump in a lunchbox and am praying nobody ever looks in it.  My sister in law has lent me her electric pump (yeah, sharing pumps, whatever we don't care) and I have yet to figure out how to hide it as I make my way from the staff room to my room of expression to the fridge.

I can see that I won't keep this up.  I'm not surprised that women who exclusively express sometimes struggle with it.  But then I've never been a fan of expressing.  I am quite happy breastfeeding in front of my family, but expressing...no.  It's....undignified.  Or at least that's how it feels.  I suppose in the fullness of time I may give my daughter cows milk.  I don't need to pump for supply reasons - I am only at work 3 days a week and supply was never a big issue for me.  In fact my milk never even went away after I stopped breastfeeding. 

So this is a new development in my public breastfeeding adventures - expressing outside of my home...expect more musings :)

Sunday, 1 September 2013

The end of maternity

My return to work is drawing nigh.  I was quite worried about this but now I feel differently.  I am looking forward to a little less stress and the odd opportunity for downtime.  It will also make a nice change to wee alone.  I will of course miss my gorgeous children a lot, but I am fortunate to have a busy job that makes it unlikely I will think about them.

I took a year off on maternity with my son.  This time I am returning after 8 months (largely to make my life easier at work).  This means it is a rather different matter leaving my baby.  My son was only feeding once a day when I left him.  My daughter is mostly breastfed and just has little bits of food.  So, it seems I am entering the world of expressing.  

I have expressed before on occasion, but not regularly like I will now.  However, the new realm for me is expressing in public.  It's one thing getting my boobs out, which will inevitably be hidden by a baby's head.  It's another to be milking myself.  The truth is that I will have a secret room to go and lock myself away in, so nobody will see me.  This is very important as I am a teacher and I would most likely get fired for that level of exposure. 

I am a bit concerned about the noise of expressing.  The click of the handle.  When I know that just the other side of the door are hoards of screaming teenagers.  I am also concerned about transporting my breast pump to and from my expressing room (in a closed cool bag I am thinking) without anybody knowing what I have been up to.  And hiding the accoutrement's from my colleagues.  It will also be interesting to see how much of a drain on my time it is, given that in the past I have chosen to work through all these breaks. 

I am sure it will be fine.  But I hadn't really thought about this side of the world of breastfeeding.  Watch this space!

Saturday, 24 August 2013

breastfeeding in front of my big brother

I feel that I recently overcame a big public breastfeeding hurdle.  I have previously talked about my reluctance to feed in front of men I know.  I have little issue with strangers, but am uncomfortable feeding around those I am close to.

In the recent scorching summer I spent a weekend in London with the family and my brother.  London always seems to be a bit hotter than the rest of the country.  All the time sitting on sweaty buses didn't help.  Understandably, baby girl wanted to feed more than usual.  It seemed quite simply cruel to cover her up, even with the lightest of fabrics.  So, I fed her uncovered, in front of my big brother.

Now this is even more of a big deal than it may seem.  My Dad, who I love dearly and have a great relationship with, has lived abroad since I was about 9.  Therefore, despite frequent contact, I was missing a physical male role model.  My big brother (10 years older than me) filled the position at once.  Sure, we are a typical sibling pair, we tease each other, we jabber on into the night when we are together, we drink together given half the chance.  However, for me, there is that aspect of him having been there as a guiding force in my life.

So, given how much my brother means to me, this is a big deal.  My brother, characteristically, totally ignored it.  So the rest of the weekend I could quench my little girl's thirst without irritating her with more layers.  Sometimes being forced into these situations makes you realise just how cool people are.

Saturday, 10 August 2013

Things my son has taught me

Yesterday was my son's 3rd birthday.  It is quite unbelievable that he is so grown up, a proper little person.  Before he was born I dreamt of the things I would teach him - good manners, how to read and write, how to play musical instruments, how to be kind, how to swim and SCUBA dive..... the list goes on.  Little did I realise that he would teach me far more than I would ever teach him.  Here is a list of the things I have been taught
  • babies do not do as they are told
  • babies do not do as the books tell them
  • babies do as they damn well please
  • breastfeeding is not as easy as it looks
  • looking after a baby is not as easy as it looks
  • you do not know what tired means until you have a baby
  • you do not know what busy means till you have a baby (and this comes from somebody who worked full time, trained at karate, was in a band and did a part time MA all at the same time)
  • you do not know what love is until you have a baby
  • I have more patience than I ever thought
  • I need my friends and family more than I ever thought
  • Some of my friends were not really my friends
  • toddlers are cleverer than you think
  • just when you think everything has settled down, it all changes
  • I can think on my feet faster than I ever thought
  • I can apologise to a toddler when I have not behaved well
  • I can find the strength within me to protect my children where I wouldn't find it to protect myself.
  • I am better at multitasking than I thought possible
  • Take any chance to sleep
  • Without sleep I am a bad mother (see previous point)
  • Without food I am a bad mother
  • I do not need clean clothes or a shower (although it would be nice)
  • A bit of wee/poo/sick is not the end of the world
  • Always anticipate a bodily fluid incident (particularly when changing boy's nappies)
  • You forget the bad stuff and you miss the good stuff
Dear son,

Sometimes I'm not a very good student, but I have tried my best for 3 years and I will go on trying.  I love you more than anything little man.

Mummy x

Sunday, 4 August 2013

what's the point in 'The Big Latch On'?

This year was the first time I've joined a 'Big Latch On' event.  In the past I was always on holiday or not breastfeeding. n I jumped at the chance this year.  It was everything I'd hoped.  The normal good humour, older kids loving being a part of it all and husbands showing their support (even if some had been forced to come along :) ).  It was an opportunity for sharing tips as usual and cooing over all the beautiful babies.

But what's the point?  Other than it being a pleasant gathering, what's the big deal?

Well, in my opinion the biggest benefit is to raise the profile of breastfeeding in public.  I remember the first time I fed in public.  I went shopping with my in laws.  Initially I had to face the fear of getting my boobs out in public.  I gazed around looking for somewhere secluded and comfortable.  I spied a lady sat on a bench breastfeeding her baby.  I can still remember her face.  I timidly went and sat at the bench next to her and latched my son on.  She probably had no idea I was a public breastfeeding virgin.  However her mere presence acted as somebody holding my hand.  The more women breastfeed in public, the more we give each other confidence to do it.   Up to this moment I had never seen (or noticed) a woman breastfeeding in public.  I didn't know how to do it in an acceptable manner (if there is such a thing).  By gathering at a Big Latch On we are noticeably showing that it's OK.

We also fly in the face of people who think it is unacceptable.  A friend recently told me how somebody had muttered 'dirty' as they passed her feeding.  Until that moment she hadn't been inhibited.  I know I say it a lot, but it's all about normalisation.  The more we do it and the more people notice us doing it, the less people care.

When I fed my baby at the shopping centre that first time there was another issues.  Half an hour after he finished his feed he was up for another.  I was mortified.  People would realise just how much I fed my little boy and think I was pandering to him.  I was sweating and paniced.  I apologetically went off and fed him again.  But here's the other point - breastfed babies like to feed all the freaking time.  There's no distracting their one track mind.  So if you want to do anything other than go to breastfeeding groups then you need to breastfeed in public (unless you breastfeed in a car or a toilet, which is just a damn shame).  People who tut and shake their heads don't seem to realise that you can't leave the house unless you do this.  Also, going and sitting in a toilet every half an hour for 20 minutes pretty much makes me not want to bother going out, whereas sitting on a bench and watching the world go by is tolerable.  Once the public breastfeeding hurdle has been crossed you suddenly find you can shop, meet friends for coffee, go on holiday, whatever you want to do. 

When the 'Big Latch On' rolls round next year then try to go to/organise your own event.  It really is important.  And if you don't breastfeed, or are a man, a smile, a word or a thumbs up makes our day. Not just at an event, but everyday  Especially if we are all alone and looking worried.  It might be our first time.  I have been told that breastfeeding is beautiful by strangers far more times than I have been told it is disgusting and it makes all the difference.  And you know what, if I see a new mum breastfeeding I don't think I'll say a word.  I think I'll sit next to her and latch on my little girl, so I can give her the support of solidarity.