Before I had my son seven months ago, I had envisioned myself delivering and then transforming into a total Earth Mamma with a cool vibe - lots of breastfeeding, calmness and togetherness dripping from my pores. Although some days it seems like I hit the calmness and togetherness stride, much to my surprise it's been the breastfeeding part that has escaped me.
I am a mother who does not have enough milk. There, I said it for all to hear. I don’t have enough milk, and for months now I have equated that with not being enough for my son.
I have enviously looked at other mothers in my mommy Ggroups who seem to have enough milk to feed the starving children in Africa, and wondered, “Why me?” I’ve looked longingly at the ubiquitous Breast Is Best posters and wondered, “What else can I do to make more milk?” I won't bore you with the details of countless visits to lactation consultants, medication, homeopathy, Traditional Chinese medicine (that prescribed VILE tea and pigs feet stew- which I ate!), herbs and lactation aids to help make more milk. At this stage, that part of the story doesn’t even matter.
Last week in our music class, I heard a mother apologize to her baby for not having enough milk and for bottle feeding. Hearing it was like getting a punch to the gut - is this what we have come to?
None of us has purposely not produced enough milk or made the latch difficult, yet we attach our self worth to breastfeeding. My son gets breast milk, solids and formula - he doesn’t know the difference. He is happy, growing and hungry. My job is to be the mother he needs, not the mother I think he wants.
So now when I start to lose my footing and feel like I am not enough for him, I look at his happy face and try to find myself in his laugh.
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