One of these days, I will find the willpower to stop following the news. Because lately, it seems so full of hateful words, hateful actions thrown back and forth that it's hard to believe in the existence of kindness.
Becoming a mother the first time taught me how much larger my capacity for love really is, and now that I'm about to do so for the second time, I'm learning how deep my empathy and sorrow for others runs in my heart. It's hard to feel joy and happiness about the arrival of this baby when every day, I see photos of children who go to sleep on the cold ground with empty bellies, or a mother killed in a clinic whose children will never see her again.
My heart breaks at the thought of my children being taken away from me, or of myself dying and leaving them too soon. How can a world that God created such beauty in be so terrible and cruel at the same time? We were warned in the Bible that the world would be difficult, but I had no idea it would be because of the horrifying things we humans do to each other.
Christmas draws closer, a season where warm, loving feelings and charitable acts increase many times over. Even still, it's all tainted with this dark, bitter hatred on this issue or towards that group of people. Everyone is pointing fingers and refusing to see the truth behind God's ultimatum:
"Love one another, as I have loved you."
As a mother, my heart aches for those in suffering, and I wish I had the superpowers to do more. I wish I could bring back the mothers to their children, and give a roof and a hot meal to those who need it. I wish I weren't so damn crazy and pregnant that almost my entire focus is on myself right now.
But the best I can do now is hold my husband and daughter tight, savor the baby kicking in my belly, and hold on for as long as I can. And as always, I can pray. I don't know what to ask for God to do, but He knows what is needed. So if anyone out there is reading this, that's all I'm going to ask of you as well. I have no idea who or where you are, but chances are you're in a good position to bring a little kindness back into this world in some small way.
So please do, and have a Merry Christmas.
If you've ever eaten dropped Cheerios off the rug, shot a dirty diaper into the trash from across the room, or cleaned a child's face with your spit, then hello and welcome!
Monday, November 30, 2015
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Open Letter to the Refugees
Hello, there. We've never met face to face, but you've been on my mind a lot these past few days. My heart and mind have been broken and stretched and stitched back together more than they ever have before, searching for answers to many questions. I live in a small, very conservative Southern town where being open-minded is often ridiculed as naive, so I feel this is the only way to communicate my thoughts and feelings outside my family and close friends.
My name is Becky Norris, and I am a housewife and mother. My husband and I have one daughter, with a second due in two weeks. In what should be a joyful time of preparation for a new baby and the holiday season, instead I find myself grieving for people whose faces I've only seen on my computer screen. I can't even begin to imagine or understand the horror and pain you've been through, seeing your homes, neighbors, and loved ones destroyed. I've never known what it's like to try and sleep at night without knowing if a bomb will fall before morning and kill you. I don't know the anguish and worry of trying to keep my children safe from armed terrorists walking the streets.
I have not lived a wealthy life, but I have lived a privileged one. My husband makes enough for us to live in a cozy, clean (mostly!) house, have plenty of food and clothes, medical care, and just a little to save away. I try and think of what we would do if all that were suddenly ripped from us, and we were forced to run across the state of Arkansas to try and survive. I can't.
I know it is highly unlikely that any of you heading for the US will end up in our little town, and if you did I'm afraid most people here would look at you with suspicion, fear, and even hatred. You might have seen what many Americans are saying on social media, that they do not want you here because you happen to look a bit like the terrorists committing these unspeakable acts you are running from. But if you do happen to find your way here, I hope you will forgive them. Most have never been outside this country, let alone met anyone from a foreign land or a religion different than their own. All they know is what they've been told, to be afraid and to lash out at what they don't understand.
I see the pictures of you with your children, struggling in camps and sleeping on pieces of cardboard on the ground. I see your eyes darkened by fear and sadness, and I wish I could do more from my little house on a quiet street. I wish I could pay to fly you and your children here to the mountains, put cots and sleeping bags in my living room, and give you a safe, dry place to sleep. I would love nothing more than to invite you into my tiny kitchen for a big pot of homemade soup and freshly baked bread. I wish I could hear your story from your own lips, and then cry and pray with you for an end to the madness. I wish I could see my daughter sharing her toys with your children, and hear them laughing and playing together.
But more than anything in this world, I wish that more around me felt the same way. I wish more people in my clean, quiet little town would realize the excruciating pain and suffering you've survived, and want to welcome you with open arms. I wish the many churches in this town would open their doors to feed and clothe you with unlimited compassion and generosity. Sadly, this likely won't happen.
In the meantime, if you do happen to find your way to this tiny mountain town, please remember that there are a very few of us who want you to have a safe place. And I will fling my doors open wide, give you a big hug, and sit you down for a hot meal.
Until then, know that I am thinking of you very much, and praying for your safety and well-being with all my heart.
-Becky Norris
John 21:15-17 NIV
15 When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”
“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”
Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”
16 Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”
He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”
Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”
17 The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”
Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”
Jesus said, “Feed my sheep."
Friday, October 23, 2015
Rainy Day Blues
After weeks without rain, you'd think the first good downpour would come as a relief. No more burn ban, no more fall foliage drying and curling up like paper in a fire. But as is common these days, there is a brooding, almost bitchy cast over my thoughts which really doesn't have much grounding except for feeling big, fat, pregnant, and tired.
My blessings outnumber the raindrops outside, yet I can't seem to shake the frustration and anger that comes with the domestic rut. I cook, clean, wash, repeat. Almost always the same, and even though I DID sign up for that, there's still a strong urge to escape.
None of this is my husband's fault, as he's in the middle of his own rut of work-sleep-repeat, usually with a shower or meal thrown in if he's lucky. Being on-call 24/7 makes good money, but it certainly does throw a monkey wrench into the semblance of a normal life we try to maintain. Now that I think of it, I've never been the kind of person to be truly happy with a 9-5 life, though. I crave spontaneity and change as much as I've been craving homemade brownies.
So what's the ultimate solution for the housewife rainy-day rut? I don't think there is one, and if there was, I doubt it would work for all of us. What excites and engages me could very well bore someone else to tears, and vice versa. Keeping up with current events, blogging, reading, studying, crafting, exercising, all of these give us Susie Homemakers a mental reprieve from the mundane. And if you don't think a mental break is that important to a housewife, try taking it away from her. You'll see The Beast before too long.
I've had people imply over the past few months that I shouldn't be taking on too much outside activity, that I should instead concentrate on getting ready for the baby. But a girl can only bury herself in bottles, blankies, diapers, potty training, and housework for so long before something snaps. Yes, I'm excited about the new addition to the family, but it isn't the only thing going on with me right now. Actually, it would be freaking great to talk about something other than babies and pregnancy for a little while.
So today, while my wonderful mother whisks my 2-year-old off for a couple hours and my husband sleeps before work tonight, Mama is going to focus on doing things that make her feel rested and happy. Screw housework. Yes, I said it!
Because, as they say, if Mama ain't happy, nobody's happy!
Monday, October 5, 2015
My Little Battlefield
In my ongoing battle with prenatal depression and sheer dumb exhaustion, dark thoughts towards my husband and children rise to the surface. Anything from name-calling to wishing we'd be in a car wreck just so I'd have some justified interruption from the infuriating staleness that has become my life. Mostly, I sit and I wonder what it would take to buy myself some time away. A job? A vacation? A midlife crisis? (though I admit, 30 is a little young for that last one).
I'm tired of pretending to be perfectly happy, especially today when I'm wearing my last clean frumpy clothes and have red baggies under my eyes from crying like a lunatic several times. I'm not ashamed to day I screamed at my daughter when she kept monkeying around in her room at naptime instead of sleeping and giving me one goddamn hour of respite from the madness. In fact, I came within an inch of slapping her clear across the face and telling her I hate her. The thread that holds me back from behaving so horribly towards her is fraying very thin today.
Days like this are common with stay-at-home moms, though we either don't talk about it or sugar coat it so we don't look like the monsters we feel ourselves becoming sometimes. We do our best to hide the ugly away, because let's face it, everyone loves to see us out at the playground with our little darlings, doing sweet mommy stuff like baking cookies or blowing bubbles. Nobody wants to see us with tear-lined faces that haven't seen makeup in weeks, roaring at our little ones and throwing toys across the room.
I like to call this other woman "The Mommy Monster".
What most people don't realize is that with a conventional 9-5 job, you get to go home at the end of the night and that's it. You don't have to worry about waking up at 2-3 hour intervals to go attend to a half-sleeping toddler who wants a different blanky, a drink of water, her teddy, or just because she thought she heard a noise. That is every single night of my life, and once Baby #2 comes along, it's going to get worse. And so help me God, if you ask me how I'm going to handle that, I will cut your throat. Because really, none of us know until we get there. Show me a mom who was perfectly prepared for the second baby, and I'll show you a damn liar.
Yes, I did choose to have another baby because I wanted to. That doesn't mean I can do it alone. My husband works his rear off at a job that keeps him away from home 75% of the time, and what little time he does get here is usually spent sleeping before his next call. So those of you who know me and are reading this may be asking, what can I do?
First, don't be a stranger. You'd be surprised how nice it feels to get a phone call just to chat for 5 minutes and get to talk with an adult.
Second, think about stopping by. I go for 2-3 days without seeing people, except at Wal-Mart or the doctor's office. And there, I'm usually preoccupied with my very mischievous 2-year-old. Fifteen minutes of face-to-face contact can make a huge difference.
And third, if you're feeling particularly generous, you could babysit. I don't care if it's just for an hour so I can go lie down or get a haircut (something I've been putting off for a month now).
But most of all, don't forget about me. Nearly every day of my life, I feel so invisible that I might as well be made of vapor. My sense of self-worth is absurdly low, and I crave more than anything to be seen for something other than my abilities as a wife and mother. So many times I've been told I'm doing the best and hardest job in the world, and while that's true, the sentiment has gotten old.
To wrap this mess up, it really does take a village. And in this day and age of high technology, Facebook takes the place of neighborhood and community. But now more than ever, I need my village. And I know there's hundreds of thousands of moms like me out there who feel forgotten, shut inside their homes with sippy cups and breast pumps and their own tears for company.
Please, don't forget about us. Don't leave us behind. When you see us struggling, don't offer sugar-coated sentiments, just give us a hug and tell us we're going to be alright. Because most of us go through each day having a hard time believing it.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Breastfeeding FAQ For Those Who Wonder
Recently, the "breastfeeding issue", which is a ridiculous term in and of itself, has been brought more into the light. Between the rise of nurse-ins, "brelfies", and news stories about mothers asked to leave public venues because of said breastfeeding, this has been on my mind. Not to mention the fact that by the end of 2015, I will for the second time enter into the breastfeeding journey with the birth of my second daughter.
The irony with some people's opinions, is that they're all for breastfeeding when it's done in private, or covered, ect, but at the first sign of a mom openly doing it, LOOK OUT! All of a sudden the sky starts falling, people start covering their children's eyes, and wives start blindfolding their husbands for fear they will be exposed to the spectacle of a mother feeding a hungry baby.
I think a good part of this reaction is rooted in a lack of knowledge and understanding, so let me see if I can address some of the more common questions and arguments made in opposition to open breastfeeding.
1) Why can't you just be discreet? You know, use a cover?
Okay, we'll start with an easy one. I used a lightweight cover in the very beginning with my first daughter, and thankfully she did okay with it. It had this nifty wire along the top so you could prop it open like a tent and look down and see the baby. However, this was when she was under a month old, and could barely hold her head up, let alone use her arms and legs.
This all changed.
Most babies find being under a blanket or cover stuffy and hot and uncomfortable, and will actively fight or tear it off. So before you think this a simple solution, try bottle-feeding a baby under a blanket while they use their octopus limbs to thrash and squirm around. Oh, and be sure to keep your chest covered from all possible viewing angles! Short answer- it's extremely uncomfortable for both mom and baby, and while all this noise and battling is going on, you could be just feeding said baby quietly while possibly making complete strangers uncomfortable.
Which would you rather do? Better yet, which would you rather put up with in public? Hmm, think I'll side with the screaming, hungry infant who just wants some milk.
2) Why can't you just plan ahead by pumping milk and bringing it with you?
Ho, boy, this is a good one. First off, when you're towing along a baby, especially if you've already got other kids, even a simple outing to the grocery store is like planning a marathon. Not only does everyone need to be clean, dressed, shoes on, hair brushed, ect., but you have to pack what amounts to a small vacation's worth of snacks, sippy cups, diaper bags, toys, and changes of clothes. It's pretty hard to do all that plus sit down for twenty or thirty minutes and pump.
Also, keep in mind that some moms do great with pumps, others do not. The natural jaw and mouth motion of a baby is way more effective in drawing milk out than a pump, more often than not. So a mom who has no problem breastfeeding might pump for an hour and only get an ounce or two, and with a growing baby, that just ain't enough.
I should add that for longer trips, breast milk has to be kept in a cooler, because unlike formula, it can go off if left out for too long. So there's another bag to be lugging around.
3) What about formula?
Sometimes I do envy those moms strolling around Wal-Mart, casually propping a bottle up for their baby while they breeze around and shop. Sometimes I wish I had a detachable third boob so I could do the same thing, instead of sitting down somewhere and praying that people don't stare or comment while I feed my baby.
But here's the thing- if I'd wanted to formula feed my baby, I would've certainly done so from the beginning. It would've saved me the pain of rock-hard boobs and raw nipples, and the exhaustion of getting up four times a night to be the "milk wagon" for my baby. In addition to the WHO (World Health Organization)'s recommendation that mothers breastfeed for 2 years or beyond, breastmilk contains a load of antibiotics, antivirals, growth hormones, and other nutrients that science has not been able to replicate.
Also, some babies have tummy issues with formula, and the few colic episodes we had were bad enough. Convenience aside, I'll gladly take the sleep deprivation and staring to do what's best for my little one.
4) Can't you just do it at home?
Ah, those annoying moms, always feeding out in public without any consideration for others? Why don't they just stay home?
You mean, like I do....EVERY DAY? Why of course! I haven't set foot outside my house in a week, but if it makes you feel less icky, I'll gladly continue my hermit status! Of course moms don't want to stay at home with their babies all the time, we need to get out! We're not asking to go clubbing every night, but to go out to lunch even once or twice a week, or shopping for something other than diapers is BLISS for us.
Plus, it keeps us from going insane and ending up on the six-o-clock news. Seriously, you wouldn't ask anyone else to isolate themselves for such a long period without social interaction, would you? It's all about finding a balance in life, and moms are no different.
On a side note, ever tried reasoning out a feeding schedule with an infant? It's a short conversation.
5) But isn't that indecent exposure or something?
No, it is not indecent exposure, because it is a mother feeding her child. She is not pulling her shirt up and flashing the whole food court. In fact, in 48 states, state law protects the right of mothers to breastfeed their babies anywhere the mother is authorized to be. Here's how Arkansas's law reads:
"20-27-2001. Breastfeeding in public.
A woman may breastfeed a child in a public place or any place where other individuals are present.
The 2007 law also amended the AR indecency law (Code 5-14-112) to provide protection from prosecution for indecent exposure."
-www.healthyarkansas.gov
6) What about other people's kids? Think of the children!
I am thinking of the children, not just mine but others. Most young kids don't understand what a woman's breasts are really for, so maybe this "embarassing" moment is actually a teaching opportunity in disguise. Maybe instead of herding children away from the sight and towards that big Victoria's Secret ad, you could instead explain briefly that some babies get milk from their mommy's breasts. And then they go, "Oh, okay!" and that's the end of it.
Kids learn more from their parents than anyone, and if they learn to view breasts only as sexual objects meant to be displayed or played with or shamed, then that is all they will know. Think of how many television ads and movie trailers parade cleavage around without anyone saying they should be ashamed. By the same logic, you should also keep your children away from public beaches, boardwalks, ect., where women (and some men) blatantly display cleavage.
In short, it is not my responsibility to educate your children on the original purpose of the female breast, though I don't mind answering questions should they ask. It's yours.
7) What about other women's husbands? Think of the men!
Okay, kids staring I can understand. They may not have seen it before, or don't understand what's going on. That's fine. Grown men are another matter. I fully understand and accept the knee-jerk reaction men have around breasts. Heck, I married one, and I can't get changed or get in the shower without some ogling (not that I mind!).
However, if I am wearing a low-cut top in the summer (which I do sometimes these days, being pregnant and hot), and a man persists in staring, I will be sorely tempted to politely ask him not to. I would equate it to a man wearing shorts or fitting jeans and staring at his butt or crotch. Is it rude? Yes. Does it still happen? Yes.
Now switch gears to sitting out in public feeding a child. I live in a small town, so looks are kind of inevitable and I don't get mad when it's just that. If I'm out feeding my baby next year and a man is staring at my breasts, I plan on striking up a conversation. Nothing biting or harsh, just small talk about the weather and such. Hopefully he'll snap out of it enough to remember his manners, and realize that I'm just making sure my baby gets some milk.
In the end my goal is not to beat down men or whatever. Instead, I want to educate them and show that breasts are for more than just funsies. His thoughts and actions are his to control, not mine. So if your husband stares, feel free to say something to him and have a discussion about how it makes you feel.
If not? I might just start chatting with him about the weather, or how the Rangers are doing this year.
8) Can't you just go into the bathroom and do that?
I'm by no means a germaphobe, but public bathrooms do gross me out a little. And unless you're in a really nice place, the only place to sit is on the same seat where hundreds, if not thousands, of butts have eliminated waste in the past. Now, put yourself in a mom's shoes. You've got this precious, helpless little baby you're trying to keep healthy and happy, and you're staring down the mouth of a public toilet. Do you just grit your teeth and sit down so you can feed your baby? Or, do you go back out to the restaurant, or the store, or wherever, and feed your baby in a place where she's less likely to catch a staph infection?
Personally, I would much rather risk a few stares. If it makes you that uncomfortable, imagine taking your plate into the restroom and sitting down and eating. Pretty gross, huh?
Now, other places have these great comfy chairs or little couches to sit on, and I am all over that. But these places are still kind of rare, unfortunately.
9) Well if you can whip a breast out, then why can't I pee/poop/have sex/take my privates out in public?
First off, I have never seen a breastfeeding mom "just whip it out". A lot of moms even use two shirts or a nursing top that unbuttons to just expose the nipple area, so that once baby's head is there, you see...NOTHING. We have no interest in flashing our stretch-marked, sore boobs for your enjoyment. Sorry.
This argument is probably the most juvenile, idiotic thing I've come across. To compare feeding a hungry baby to eliminating waste or pleasuring yourself in public is ludicrous at best, and perverted at worst. Breastfeeding is legal and sanitary, the other stuff is definitely not.
Think about it this way- would you feed your child with your pee, poop, or semen? Of course not!n And if you STILL can't see the difference, sounds like you're the one with the problem.
10) If your baby is X months old, why are you still breastfeeding? You should stop!
While it's true that the AAP (American Association of Pediatrics) recommends breastfeeding exclusively for at least 6 months, there is no maximum cap. The nutritional benefits of breastfeeding continue through age 2 and beyond.
Some babies decide they're done with the breast sooner, as in the case of my daughter. Around 7 months, we started introducing basic foods like rice cereal, teething cookies, fruit and veggie puree, ect. She would breastfeed once or twice during the day, try these other goodies, and breastfeed once or twice at night. I let her decide when she was ready, and by 10 or 11 months, she stopped wanting the breast at night, too.
I'm a big supporter of moms deciding what they think is best for their own children, and of course I trust my babies to know when they're ready for certain things. Like solid foods, or potty training (pray for me on that one!). I might not have breastfed past 2, but I most certainly will not criticize a mom who does. Because she's the one raising her kids, not me.
11) Do you HAVE to do that in church?
Okay, this is kind of a specific one, and here's why: Although I haven't yet had to breastfeed in church, I would like to think that a group of loving, accepting Christians would do their best to make a new mom feel comfortable bringing her babies to church, even if they privately don't agree with the act itself.
I would rather quietly feed my baby than disrupt OUR Sunday service with crying and fussing that just makes everyone (including me) awkward.
Just like going to the store or the park or any other public place, I'd like to think that having babies doesn't mean I give up my right to come to church to worship. Personally, I believe God can be worshiped anywhere, in any circumstance, but that doesn't mean I don't want to give up seeing my church family. And what is family for, if not to support and love one another?
Besides, everyone in the Bible (including Jesus) was breastfed. And you didn't see the Wise Men or Joseph telling Mary to "cover up".
12) Well, maybe you're just a weirdo exhibitionist who LIKES being stared at!
I don't deny being a bit of a weirdo, but am definitely not an exhibitionist. Think about it, what new mom do you know who walks around flaunting her stretch marks, saggy butt, saggy belly, or C-section scar like she's the hottest chick ever? Not to mention the dark eye circles, half-brushed hair, unshaved legs, and mismatched socks, because let's face it, this is what most new moms look like.
We are mind-blowingly tired, and after a week at home with a newborn, desperate to get out of the house despite how scary and frumpy we might look. And so we crawl cautiously out of our homes to venture to the coffee shop or Wal-Mart in hopes of a little fresh air and sunlight. Exhibitionist? HA!
Let me add another fun feature to this picture, one you might not know of since you obviously haven't bothered to try this yourself or bother asking a breastfeeding mom what' it's like:
Breastfeeding hurts. Period. A few days after birth, while your body is already torn up and stretched beyond belief, your breasts become rock-hard and swollen so badly all you want to do is pump and cry. Sometimes simultaneously. I vividly recall standing in the shower sobbing for the fourth time in a day, letting the hot water hit my breasts and praying beyond all hope it would get easier.
This pain is terrible, now attach a hungry infant to your nipple and let them suckle for a half hour each side (bonus pain points if the baby is having trouble latching or learning to suckle). Repeat this process ten to twelve times a day for a few weeks.
Still think we're doing this because we're getting our jollies? Think again.
13) What about going out to your car, where it's nice and private?
To be fair, I've actually done this one on longer road trips when my daughter got fussy. Because let's face it, baby's gotta eat when a baby's gotta eat. Sometimes I've even done it in the backseat of the Jeep while in a parking lot before we go in, because that's when she decided she was hungry.
Now, if I am in the middle of grocery shopping, or some other errand, it's a different kettle of fish. Going out to the car means gathering up all the bags and luggage, gathering up the kids, and herding them all back out to said car. Then keeping them entertained while I feed baby, then hauling everything and everyone back inside. Running errands is exhausting enough, thank you.
Also, in the middle of winter or summer, or in the rain? Not so fun. If you're truly upset, you can take your food and go out to your car and eat.
In Conclusion:
Now, given all the difficulties both physical, mental, and social, you might ask yourself, "Why would any SANE person CHOOSE to keep doing this???"
If you've ever had a baby of your own, ever carried her inside you and felt her kicks, then undergone hours or days of pain to bring them into the world, then looked at this beautiful, helpless wrinkled person you created.
Well, in that moment, there isn't anything you wouldn't do for that child. Every step of the way with my daughter, there was no question in my mind that I would take on any discomfort or pain to make her healthy and happy.
I used to care greatly about how other people saw me, and now I've got this little person who depends on me for everything, looks up to me every day, and makes me both insane and joyful at the same time. Now that I've got this incredible little lady and another one on the way, somehow the way other people see me doesn't seem nearly as important as it used to.
Because children are a precious gift from God, and mine are the center of my world and my family.
I will now and always respect the right of others to have opinions and voices, but you are not the center of my world or my family. They are.
Since this was meant to be a FAQ, I would like to open up the comments section to any and all questions, comments, stories, ect. I want to hear what all you out there on social media think of this particular issue, which I hope years from now will no longer be referred to as an "issue".
The irony with some people's opinions, is that they're all for breastfeeding when it's done in private, or covered, ect, but at the first sign of a mom openly doing it, LOOK OUT! All of a sudden the sky starts falling, people start covering their children's eyes, and wives start blindfolding their husbands for fear they will be exposed to the spectacle of a mother feeding a hungry baby.
I think a good part of this reaction is rooted in a lack of knowledge and understanding, so let me see if I can address some of the more common questions and arguments made in opposition to open breastfeeding.
1) Why can't you just be discreet? You know, use a cover?
Okay, we'll start with an easy one. I used a lightweight cover in the very beginning with my first daughter, and thankfully she did okay with it. It had this nifty wire along the top so you could prop it open like a tent and look down and see the baby. However, this was when she was under a month old, and could barely hold her head up, let alone use her arms and legs.
This all changed.
Most babies find being under a blanket or cover stuffy and hot and uncomfortable, and will actively fight or tear it off. So before you think this a simple solution, try bottle-feeding a baby under a blanket while they use their octopus limbs to thrash and squirm around. Oh, and be sure to keep your chest covered from all possible viewing angles! Short answer- it's extremely uncomfortable for both mom and baby, and while all this noise and battling is going on, you could be just feeding said baby quietly while possibly making complete strangers uncomfortable.
Which would you rather do? Better yet, which would you rather put up with in public? Hmm, think I'll side with the screaming, hungry infant who just wants some milk.
2) Why can't you just plan ahead by pumping milk and bringing it with you?
Ho, boy, this is a good one. First off, when you're towing along a baby, especially if you've already got other kids, even a simple outing to the grocery store is like planning a marathon. Not only does everyone need to be clean, dressed, shoes on, hair brushed, ect., but you have to pack what amounts to a small vacation's worth of snacks, sippy cups, diaper bags, toys, and changes of clothes. It's pretty hard to do all that plus sit down for twenty or thirty minutes and pump.
Also, keep in mind that some moms do great with pumps, others do not. The natural jaw and mouth motion of a baby is way more effective in drawing milk out than a pump, more often than not. So a mom who has no problem breastfeeding might pump for an hour and only get an ounce or two, and with a growing baby, that just ain't enough.
I should add that for longer trips, breast milk has to be kept in a cooler, because unlike formula, it can go off if left out for too long. So there's another bag to be lugging around.
3) What about formula?
Sometimes I do envy those moms strolling around Wal-Mart, casually propping a bottle up for their baby while they breeze around and shop. Sometimes I wish I had a detachable third boob so I could do the same thing, instead of sitting down somewhere and praying that people don't stare or comment while I feed my baby.
But here's the thing- if I'd wanted to formula feed my baby, I would've certainly done so from the beginning. It would've saved me the pain of rock-hard boobs and raw nipples, and the exhaustion of getting up four times a night to be the "milk wagon" for my baby. In addition to the WHO (World Health Organization)'s recommendation that mothers breastfeed for 2 years or beyond, breastmilk contains a load of antibiotics, antivirals, growth hormones, and other nutrients that science has not been able to replicate.
Also, some babies have tummy issues with formula, and the few colic episodes we had were bad enough. Convenience aside, I'll gladly take the sleep deprivation and staring to do what's best for my little one.
4) Can't you just do it at home?
Ah, those annoying moms, always feeding out in public without any consideration for others? Why don't they just stay home?
You mean, like I do....EVERY DAY? Why of course! I haven't set foot outside my house in a week, but if it makes you feel less icky, I'll gladly continue my hermit status! Of course moms don't want to stay at home with their babies all the time, we need to get out! We're not asking to go clubbing every night, but to go out to lunch even once or twice a week, or shopping for something other than diapers is BLISS for us.
Plus, it keeps us from going insane and ending up on the six-o-clock news. Seriously, you wouldn't ask anyone else to isolate themselves for such a long period without social interaction, would you? It's all about finding a balance in life, and moms are no different.
On a side note, ever tried reasoning out a feeding schedule with an infant? It's a short conversation.
5) But isn't that indecent exposure or something?
No, it is not indecent exposure, because it is a mother feeding her child. She is not pulling her shirt up and flashing the whole food court. In fact, in 48 states, state law protects the right of mothers to breastfeed their babies anywhere the mother is authorized to be. Here's how Arkansas's law reads:
"20-27-2001. Breastfeeding in public.
A woman may breastfeed a child in a public place or any place where other individuals are present.
The 2007 law also amended the AR indecency law (Code 5-14-112) to provide protection from prosecution for indecent exposure."
-www.healthyarkansas.gov
6) What about other people's kids? Think of the children!
I am thinking of the children, not just mine but others. Most young kids don't understand what a woman's breasts are really for, so maybe this "embarassing" moment is actually a teaching opportunity in disguise. Maybe instead of herding children away from the sight and towards that big Victoria's Secret ad, you could instead explain briefly that some babies get milk from their mommy's breasts. And then they go, "Oh, okay!" and that's the end of it.
Kids learn more from their parents than anyone, and if they learn to view breasts only as sexual objects meant to be displayed or played with or shamed, then that is all they will know. Think of how many television ads and movie trailers parade cleavage around without anyone saying they should be ashamed. By the same logic, you should also keep your children away from public beaches, boardwalks, ect., where women (and some men) blatantly display cleavage.
In short, it is not my responsibility to educate your children on the original purpose of the female breast, though I don't mind answering questions should they ask. It's yours.
7) What about other women's husbands? Think of the men!
Okay, kids staring I can understand. They may not have seen it before, or don't understand what's going on. That's fine. Grown men are another matter. I fully understand and accept the knee-jerk reaction men have around breasts. Heck, I married one, and I can't get changed or get in the shower without some ogling (not that I mind!).
However, if I am wearing a low-cut top in the summer (which I do sometimes these days, being pregnant and hot), and a man persists in staring, I will be sorely tempted to politely ask him not to. I would equate it to a man wearing shorts or fitting jeans and staring at his butt or crotch. Is it rude? Yes. Does it still happen? Yes.
Now switch gears to sitting out in public feeding a child. I live in a small town, so looks are kind of inevitable and I don't get mad when it's just that. If I'm out feeding my baby next year and a man is staring at my breasts, I plan on striking up a conversation. Nothing biting or harsh, just small talk about the weather and such. Hopefully he'll snap out of it enough to remember his manners, and realize that I'm just making sure my baby gets some milk.
In the end my goal is not to beat down men or whatever. Instead, I want to educate them and show that breasts are for more than just funsies. His thoughts and actions are his to control, not mine. So if your husband stares, feel free to say something to him and have a discussion about how it makes you feel.
If not? I might just start chatting with him about the weather, or how the Rangers are doing this year.
8) Can't you just go into the bathroom and do that?
I'm by no means a germaphobe, but public bathrooms do gross me out a little. And unless you're in a really nice place, the only place to sit is on the same seat where hundreds, if not thousands, of butts have eliminated waste in the past. Now, put yourself in a mom's shoes. You've got this precious, helpless little baby you're trying to keep healthy and happy, and you're staring down the mouth of a public toilet. Do you just grit your teeth and sit down so you can feed your baby? Or, do you go back out to the restaurant, or the store, or wherever, and feed your baby in a place where she's less likely to catch a staph infection?
Personally, I would much rather risk a few stares. If it makes you that uncomfortable, imagine taking your plate into the restroom and sitting down and eating. Pretty gross, huh?
Now, other places have these great comfy chairs or little couches to sit on, and I am all over that. But these places are still kind of rare, unfortunately.
9) Well if you can whip a breast out, then why can't I pee/poop/have sex/take my privates out in public?
First off, I have never seen a breastfeeding mom "just whip it out". A lot of moms even use two shirts or a nursing top that unbuttons to just expose the nipple area, so that once baby's head is there, you see...NOTHING. We have no interest in flashing our stretch-marked, sore boobs for your enjoyment. Sorry.
This argument is probably the most juvenile, idiotic thing I've come across. To compare feeding a hungry baby to eliminating waste or pleasuring yourself in public is ludicrous at best, and perverted at worst. Breastfeeding is legal and sanitary, the other stuff is definitely not.
Think about it this way- would you feed your child with your pee, poop, or semen? Of course not!n And if you STILL can't see the difference, sounds like you're the one with the problem.
10) If your baby is X months old, why are you still breastfeeding? You should stop!
While it's true that the AAP (American Association of Pediatrics) recommends breastfeeding exclusively for at least 6 months, there is no maximum cap. The nutritional benefits of breastfeeding continue through age 2 and beyond.
Some babies decide they're done with the breast sooner, as in the case of my daughter. Around 7 months, we started introducing basic foods like rice cereal, teething cookies, fruit and veggie puree, ect. She would breastfeed once or twice during the day, try these other goodies, and breastfeed once or twice at night. I let her decide when she was ready, and by 10 or 11 months, she stopped wanting the breast at night, too.
I'm a big supporter of moms deciding what they think is best for their own children, and of course I trust my babies to know when they're ready for certain things. Like solid foods, or potty training (pray for me on that one!). I might not have breastfed past 2, but I most certainly will not criticize a mom who does. Because she's the one raising her kids, not me.
11) Do you HAVE to do that in church?
Okay, this is kind of a specific one, and here's why: Although I haven't yet had to breastfeed in church, I would like to think that a group of loving, accepting Christians would do their best to make a new mom feel comfortable bringing her babies to church, even if they privately don't agree with the act itself.
I would rather quietly feed my baby than disrupt OUR Sunday service with crying and fussing that just makes everyone (including me) awkward.
Just like going to the store or the park or any other public place, I'd like to think that having babies doesn't mean I give up my right to come to church to worship. Personally, I believe God can be worshiped anywhere, in any circumstance, but that doesn't mean I don't want to give up seeing my church family. And what is family for, if not to support and love one another?
Besides, everyone in the Bible (including Jesus) was breastfed. And you didn't see the Wise Men or Joseph telling Mary to "cover up".
12) Well, maybe you're just a weirdo exhibitionist who LIKES being stared at!
I don't deny being a bit of a weirdo, but am definitely not an exhibitionist. Think about it, what new mom do you know who walks around flaunting her stretch marks, saggy butt, saggy belly, or C-section scar like she's the hottest chick ever? Not to mention the dark eye circles, half-brushed hair, unshaved legs, and mismatched socks, because let's face it, this is what most new moms look like.
We are mind-blowingly tired, and after a week at home with a newborn, desperate to get out of the house despite how scary and frumpy we might look. And so we crawl cautiously out of our homes to venture to the coffee shop or Wal-Mart in hopes of a little fresh air and sunlight. Exhibitionist? HA!
Let me add another fun feature to this picture, one you might not know of since you obviously haven't bothered to try this yourself or bother asking a breastfeeding mom what' it's like:
Breastfeeding hurts. Period. A few days after birth, while your body is already torn up and stretched beyond belief, your breasts become rock-hard and swollen so badly all you want to do is pump and cry. Sometimes simultaneously. I vividly recall standing in the shower sobbing for the fourth time in a day, letting the hot water hit my breasts and praying beyond all hope it would get easier.
This pain is terrible, now attach a hungry infant to your nipple and let them suckle for a half hour each side (bonus pain points if the baby is having trouble latching or learning to suckle). Repeat this process ten to twelve times a day for a few weeks.
Still think we're doing this because we're getting our jollies? Think again.
13) What about going out to your car, where it's nice and private?
To be fair, I've actually done this one on longer road trips when my daughter got fussy. Because let's face it, baby's gotta eat when a baby's gotta eat. Sometimes I've even done it in the backseat of the Jeep while in a parking lot before we go in, because that's when she decided she was hungry.
Now, if I am in the middle of grocery shopping, or some other errand, it's a different kettle of fish. Going out to the car means gathering up all the bags and luggage, gathering up the kids, and herding them all back out to said car. Then keeping them entertained while I feed baby, then hauling everything and everyone back inside. Running errands is exhausting enough, thank you.
Also, in the middle of winter or summer, or in the rain? Not so fun. If you're truly upset, you can take your food and go out to your car and eat.
In Conclusion:
Now, given all the difficulties both physical, mental, and social, you might ask yourself, "Why would any SANE person CHOOSE to keep doing this???"
If you've ever had a baby of your own, ever carried her inside you and felt her kicks, then undergone hours or days of pain to bring them into the world, then looked at this beautiful, helpless wrinkled person you created.
Well, in that moment, there isn't anything you wouldn't do for that child. Every step of the way with my daughter, there was no question in my mind that I would take on any discomfort or pain to make her healthy and happy.
I used to care greatly about how other people saw me, and now I've got this little person who depends on me for everything, looks up to me every day, and makes me both insane and joyful at the same time. Now that I've got this incredible little lady and another one on the way, somehow the way other people see me doesn't seem nearly as important as it used to.
Because children are a precious gift from God, and mine are the center of my world and my family.
I will now and always respect the right of others to have opinions and voices, but you are not the center of my world or my family. They are.
Since this was meant to be a FAQ, I would like to open up the comments section to any and all questions, comments, stories, ect. I want to hear what all you out there on social media think of this particular issue, which I hope years from now will no longer be referred to as an "issue".
Monday, December 15, 2014
Peace On Earth, Good Will to Some?
With Christmas only a couple of weeks away, it seemed fitting to jot down some of the things I've been thinking and feeling. We're cutting Evie off her nighttime use of pacifiers cold-turkey, since she's almost two and chewing through them like a puppy through a milk bone. And she broke her second glass ornament this morning playing "keep away from Mommy". But other than these minor grievances, our Christmas season is feeling pretty cozy.
That said, there's still plenty of heartache and suffering going on out there. Children are going to bed hungry, old folks are going without heat, and even among those of us with food and shelter, there are unseen hurts and struggles.
People always seem to soften this time of year, spreading friendliness and warmth while Christmas music loops on the radio. Soup kitchens and homeless shelters find themselves inundated with volunteers. According to my mother, my grandpa used to always say that every day should be like Christmas. For some reason, this is the one season we feel we can be the people we always hoped we would turn out to be. But pain and suffering is a year-round business, and so is helping one another.
We also tend to forget to put aside certain prejudices with this Christmas spirit. Oh, some people pretend, smiling and giving season's greetings. But beneath the surface, the same thoughts are streaming. And what happens when the lights come down and the tinsel is packed away? Right back to passing judgement, forgetting the humanity they almost found.
What better time of year to see people as God sees them? Not for their sins, since we all have them, but for who they are, the divine spark we all carry? People are capable of both great evil and great good, but I agree with Anne Frank that we're basically good. Free will does play a part, but it's up to us to decide how best to show God's love.
I don't want to hear digusting terms like "righteous judgement" or "speaking the truth in love", because they're both candy-coated tickets to turn noses up at others. The Great Commandment does not dictate love with conditions or strings attached. Imagine if all our relationships were like that!
"I love you, but not if you smoke."
"I love you, but only because you buy me nice things."
"I love you, but you need to stop swearing."
Can you honestly picture God using "buts" and "ifs" in His love towards us? I honestly can't. And if you want to be like Him, stop judging and pointing out the flaws of others. Let Christmas be your take-off point, a practice ground if you will. Regardless of how people look, talk, or act, let's try for that no-strings-attached love and kindness.
Sometimes people can get cranky this time of year, with traffic, shopping, stress, and assorted craziness. But at least we're mostly in the same boat. So pour yourself some hot chocolate or cider, put on those Christmas songs, and pray for Peace on Earth, Good Will to All.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Eating My Family History- A Gift From Past Kitchens
Last week, I took a trip with husband, baby, and sister in tow to visit my father and grandparents in Florida, whom I had not seen since my wedding five years ago. My relationship with them has always been founded on good intentions, but in my teen years became distant and rocky. My father's drug addiction (he's got more than a year clean now), coupled with my grandparents' enabling of that addiction, made for a very heartbreaking situation. Much as I always wanted to get re-acquainted with them, the idea seemed pointless in the midst of all the chaos that would inevitably follow.
I'm happy to report that the visit was a very pleasant one, full of catching up, memories shared, and stories told. My Nana and Grampie got to meet their great-granddaughter, and I got to see a much better side of my father from the one I remember. One evening at the house he shares with his parents, Dad brought out a small plastic bin with three smaller boxes inside. I had no idea what was in it, until he opened it.
Each box was stuffed with recipes, some handwritten on old envelopes and index cards, others clipped from newspapers and magazines decades ago. Even just rifling through them gave me an idea of what my dad and grandparents liked to eat- stews, chowders, roasts, desserts, and other comfort foods that told of their New England Irish background. A few I even recognized, like the pea soup Grampie made for us, or his delectable fudge, or my dad's famous beef stroganoff. There they all were, waiting after all these years.
One of the boxes was so warped, it was held together with clear packing tape. Another had my Nana's name, Lucy, on the cover. According to my mother, she was never as much into cooking as Grampie and Dad were, but a few of the recipes are in her handwriting nonetheless.
And my Grampie, ever the scientist/inventor, made precise notes on several of the recipes. Mostly about what to add when, and amounts that needed to be tweaked. I'll have to be sure to try his suggestions when I attempt those particular dishes.
What all this boils down to, is more than a bunch of new recipes for me to try. This is the chance of a lifetime to learn about the side of my family I almost wanted to forget about, the well-to-do people from Lowell, MA, who had their faults but tried their best. And clearly, my love of food and being in the kitchen is no coincidence!
So in the days, weeks, and months that follow, I will be pulling recipes at random and giving them another swing. Some are going to be tricky, like the 100-year-old Boston Baked Beans recipe with the ingredient list taking up an entire page. Others are going to be fun, like Nana's dill macaroni salad or Grampie's fudge. And still others are clearly dated, like holiday jello mold, chicken divan, and lobster newburg sauge. But they are pieces of my family's history, and I can hear them speaking to me already.
It's as if they're saying "Welcome home. Hope you're hungry."
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