The reality of feeding a baby in America
I'm noticing a lot of voices contributing to discussions of breastfeeding and formula during a formula shortage that is nothing short of a crisis for so many parents. Some of those voices are coming from folks who've never been in a situation where they had to make a choice about whether or not their own body would feed their child. And I also realized that we don't talk publicly very much about breastfeeding, so of course there's a lot of myth and misunderstanding around how it works, and why formula is the right choice for a lot of families.
I breastfed for 33 months. It is one of my favorite things I've experienced as a mom, and I am absolutely sure that nothing about it was easy or "free."
I had an emergency c-section, so it took a few extra days for my milk to come in. So, for the first few days, Brecken got colostrum (yay!), and Eric fed him formula in a syringe. I pumped after every. single. feeding (which is every 60-90 minutes in those first few days— not everyone may know that) to stimulate milk production. Once I was producing enough with the pump to replace what we were supplementing, he was exclusively breastfed. However. Here's a list of all the things that made that possible (and I don't think we would have succeeded if any one of these things weren't true):
I was able to take 7 weeks of paid leave thanks to the sick/vacation time I'd saved up at Penn State. I could have taken an additional 5 weeks of unpaid leave, but that wasn't an option for our family. 7 weeks was enough time to nurse my baby on demand and to power-pump until I'd developed an over-supply, so we had a good stockpile in the freeze when I went back to work. When my supply regulated after a couple of months, we had stored milk to top off his bottles.
Penn State had a lactation consultant on staff that I was able to work with, free of charge.
Penn State also offered free breastfeeding classes pre-baby, as well as free classes in breastfeeding while working.
I had a supportive partner (shout out to Eric Bush) who followed my lead in every way and worked with me to make sure breastfeeding was successful
I had the financial means to experiment with different flange sizes, and to purchase:
a double pumping bra
extra pump parts and storage bottles and bags
sterilization equipment
nursing pads (and you really can't use the reusable ones in the beginning; they are not absorbent enough—so you are buying them regularly)
and, when I damaged my nipples by pumping on too high of a setting, I was able to buy cups to put on them so they wouldn't brush against fabric. (Doesn't this all sound fun?! Easy?!)
I had a super supportive supervisor and colleagues who were cheering me on when I went back to work.
Penn State provided me with a private room that locked, that only I had access to, where I could pump each day. I had wifi access in the room, so I was able to continue working while I pumped, which was 2-3 times a day, for 20-30 minutes, for ten months
I spent 1 hour every night (for about 9 months) "power-pumping" after Brecken went to sleep, to try and boost my supply, and to pump enough to get the right number of ounces for the next day.
I tracked ounces pumped and fed in bottles in an app, so I always knew how much inventory we had.
I bought lactation cookies and supplements and hydration drinks to boost my supply.
And at least 2-3 times per week in the first, I felt like I was failing when I didn't get the number of ounces I was hoping for in a pumping session, even though my baby was all rolls and pink cheeks, and growing right on his curve.
I had about the best case scenario a new mom can possibly hope for. And it was exhausting— a full time job on top of everything else. I loved breastfeeding. I hated pumping. But in the United States, for people my age, with the educational background my partner and I have, we had to be a two-income household. So that meant pumping, or formula. I was able to make pumping work. But it often felt nearly impossible. It was only possible because my situation was incredibly privileged.
I have also heard it suggested that parents who are formula feeding their babies could start breastfeeding when there’s a formula shortage. Even if we don’t consider those parents whose children were born via surrogate, or were adopted, or are foster children, or the parent or parents don’t have breasts— and we should consider them, because their experiences are important and should be celebrated! But even if we don’t consider them, and we are only talking about babies who are being cared for by the parents who birthed them: It will take weeks, possibly months, for that parent to build up enough of a supply to feed their baby. They would need to sit in a chair and alternate between pumping and nursing nonstop. Never mind caring for their growing child and nurturing the many other facets of their development.
In the United States, our culture has not progressed to a point where families have the resources they need to function at a high level on all fronts. There’s just not enough support or understanding. That reality is born out of a lot of misogyny and patriarchal conditioning over hundreds of years. So it is infuriating, but not surprising, when 192 people vote against funding to address a crisis that they consider “a women’s issue.” But that’s what happened yesterday in the United States House of Representatives. So. After you’re done processing this mini-lesson on Breastfeeding in America, I hope you’ll consider picking up the phone, especially, if like me, your representative voted no. Oh, and by the way. All of those people will be on a ballot in November, and you can consider whether or not they’re really doing right by their constituents.