A Mission: Breast feeding

Today, I am filled with happiness and all up in my feelings because it’s my baby girl’s 1st birthday. I thought I might dedicate my Monday post to my first year of motherhood; how much I’ve changed through it, how far my husband and I have come as partners and parents and just how much joy Maya has brought us. But, in celebration of National Breastfeeding week, I’ve decided to go a different route and share my breastfeeding journey with all the ups and downs it brings.

I wanted to start by saying that prior to giving birth I was fearful that I wouldn’t be able to breastfeed…a common fear among mothers. I thought that if my baby were formula fed, she would be lacking in some way…and I would be less of a woman. I have my own anxieties to blame for thinking this way, but also, to keep it real, Instagram is the prime culprit. Instagram Mom’s (the crazy ones) are the equivalent to high school mean girls. And if you’re a mom, I know you feel me. I was drowning in “breast is best” mantras all while wondering if my body could even provide for Maya.

For you to understand my fear, I must back it up. In September of 2009 I underwent a breast reduction surgery because having double E breasts was AWFUL and I hated everything about them. The day of my surgery was a joyous day. I got to go to sleep and wake up with some nice perky C’s! I was elated. I started my second year of college with a new body and new confidence to match. Being 18 at the time, the last thing I was thinking was how that procedure may affect feeding my future child 10 years down the road. Long story short, during the procedure, milk ducts were damaged and removed along with fat tissue.

I breastfed Maya for 2 glorious months and I am so blessed to have had that time with her, knowing some women are never able to. Because of the damage from my surgery and the stress of trying to produce more milk, that was all I could do. After realizing she needed to be switched to formula, I went a little crazy. I was determined to keep her breastfed, even if it were from another woman. I am unopposed to sharing breast milk, I think it is such a gift for over producing women to share their milk with mothers and babies in need. I was so grateful to find a breast milk bank in San Jose, but upon discovering they charged $4 an ounce (when Maya was consuming 4 ounces per feeding) was mind blowing, offensive, and felt morally wrong. I purchased milk from them 4 times, spending way more than I should’ve.

Realizing I couldn’t keep that up, I joined several Facebook groups for women looking to buy, sell and donate breast milk. Finding a few in neighboring states, I would pay for the milk, the dry iced packaging and the shipping. It was so costly, incredibly stressful, and sometimes I would shell out hundreds of dollars, only to receive the package late, with spoiled milk. Fortunately, I found a local donor in Northridge that only required I bring a pack of diapers for her son in exchange for however much frozen milk she could offer. She was incredibly sweet and generous. She even pumped 4 ounces of milk for Maya to have for the car ride home. She was a real blessing.

On my first cross country flight to New York with Maya, I packed 40 ounces of some random woman’s breast milk, and directly fed her from my breast whenever I could. The purchased breast milk ended up upsetting her stomach and I was unaware of what the donor was putting in their body. Certainly, she told me she ate well, didn’t drink excessively or smoke and was obviously feeding her own baby the same milk, so I felt it was good enough. On my last day in New York, I ran out of the donor milk and panicked, knowing I would have to give her formula.

My Dad rushed to the store to buy a hypoallergenic formula (Similac Alimentum) for Maya before we left for our flight back to California. To my surprise, it settled her, filled her up and from then, I knew that she needed to be formula fed. The loops and hoops I went through to make sure she was only consuming breast milk simply wasn’t worth the stress, or the money. I went from believing “breast is best” to “fed is best”. I knew I had done my best and as my late grandmother would always say, “All you can give is your best. Leave the rest to God.”

I stopped breastfeeding Maya on October 1st, fully transitioning to formula. I felt and still feel proud of myself for making the best decision for the both of us. It’s very easy to succumb to what you read online; I allowed it to get in my head and disrupt my peace of mind.

Never again.

When I have my second child, I will be better equipped to handle feedings.

A year later, Maya is an incredibly smart, happy and HEALTHY little girl. My love for her is indescribable, so I won’t even try to depict it.

I hope my fellow mothers reading this, whether breastfeeding or formula feeding know that WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE TO DO IS WHAT’S BEST.

Screw the rest.