The Miracle of Breastfeeding

I am reading the best book right now. It's called Spirit-Led Parenting: From Fear to Freedom in Baby's First Year (written by Megan Tietz and Laura Oyer). I would like to recommend this book to anyone expecting a baby. It's pages are life-giving.

Ironically, I am reading it just after my baby turned one. (It is meant to coincide with the first year of Baby's life.) Even so, I am finding tears of celebration (coupled with a few tears of regret) as I read. Point is: GREAT BOOK!

I just finished the chapter on feeding baby. My experience feeding John so closely mirrored Laura's experience that it was scary. Reading her story made me want to put my own in writing. Here goes.

Sherry. That's my mama's name. She breastfed both my sister and me for close to two years. I have heard her talk about her wonderful breastfeeding experience(s) my entire life.

Calley. That's my sister's name. She breastfed my nephew, Mason, for the first seventeen months of his life. I witnessed him latch for the first time. Five hours after being born via emergency C-section. With ease. Like he'd been doing it forever.

Ashley. That's my name. I am still breastfeeding my baby boy at 12+ months. And this, my friends, is a miracle.

John was born via C-section at 10:27 p.m. on June 2, 2011. I had been telling my doctor all day long as I labored that I wanted to nurse John right after he was born. I wanted him to have the best possible first feeding scenario.

You see, I have been dreaming of breastfeeding my children for my entire life. Sounds weird, I know, but I've always heard my mama talk about its importance. Heck, I've even been known to pull up my shirt and breastfeed my baby dolls. I never imagined any other way.

My doctor heard my incessant pleas to nurse my baby at the first possible opportunity because when I entered the recovery room, my baby was already there waiting for me to feed him. I was so thankful that I would be feeding my son for the first time just one hour after his entrance into the world (rather than five like Cal's experience).

Up to the breast he goes, and ...

Wailing. Loud, endless crying.

No latching with ease (like Mason). No nursing like he'd been doing it forever.

I asked the nurse who was assigned to me from the postpartum side of the floor (and not much help, bless her heart) to please get my mama. She sweetly replied that it would not be possible for my mom to see me in recovery. So, we struggled. Me, Josh, and this poor little nurse together and completely in vain.

The next few days were a blur. In the hospital. Loads of visitors. No latching. Lactation consultants. More visitors. Calley trying to help. Still no latching. Even more visitors.

Just a practical tip: If you're a new mama in the hospital baring your ninnies (as we call them:) for the first time around people you're not totally comfortable doing that around, you can kindly ask them to leave for a few while you nurse. Josh and I felt so loved by all of our visitors, but at times, I felt very tense and uncomfortable feeding with so many people in the room. Your baby picks up on your discomfort. While this was not the solution to our problems (six months of practice would be), it may be helpful to feel the freedom to ask for privacy in those early, uncomfortable days.

I remember just wanting it to work. I remember thinking, "If only I could have a few uninterrupted minutes with my sister helping me, maybe he'd get it." And, "If he would just not get so MAD at the breast, maybe he could really do it." And, "What's wrong with my baby? Why can't he nurse?" And, "What if I can't nurse? Will my mom disown me?" (Don't worry. We talked that one through, and I already knew the answer anyway.) It was tough.

Josh and I came home from the hospital to my mama's house (so I wouldn't have to climb three flights of stairs to our apartment three days after my C-section). We came home with a constantly fussy hungry baby. After talking with the lactation consultant, I began pumping. I had purchased a cheap, terrible breast pump prior to John's birth. I will not divulge the brand of said terrible pump on the World Wide Web. I will say, however, that it is very important for a pumping mama to INVEST in a quality breast pump. One word: Medela. (It would be a few days before that one word came to have meaning [and bring relief] in my life.)

Anyway, I started pumping with my terrible breast pump. One night. Two hours. Pain. I looked down at my precious three (or so) ounces of milk, and it had sort of a pinkish tint to it. Bleeding nipples had contaminated my precious supply of nourishment for my hungry baby. What's worse is that Josh poured it down the drain before the Le Leche League confirmed that it is okay for babies to drink a little bit of blood. :(

There was one night when John nursed for 40 minutes. Minor success amid 855 unsuccessful feedings.

When the doctor's appointments began, the heartbreak came too. My sweet 7 lb. 11 oz. baby was not gaining weight. (He met his birth weight again at 3 weeks old.) After leaving the doctor's office for his one-week check-up (that I pumped all the way through), we huffed it up to the lactation consultants at Candler.

Friends, please make use of these wonderful people. I love, love, love the lactation consultants at Candler Hospital in Savannah, GA. I am forever indebted to them. To this day, when I have a question, they are the ones I call.

On this particular afternoon, I had just fed my baby a bottle of gold (as we started calling my breast milk), and he was sleeping during our appointment. The LC at work that day took the rare, quiet opportunity to introduce me to a wonderful invention called a hospital-grade breast pump. After pumping for about 15 minutes (and getting the same amount it took me two hours to produce just a couple of days before), Josh happily doled out $75 for this wonderful invention to come home with us for a month. Everyone felt better.

This was also the day that I was introduced to Soothies (hydro-gel pads). PLEASE use these for the first three weeks of breastfeeding so that pieces of your breast don't come off like mine did. Ouch. Unnecessary ouch. Trust me, buy the Soothies.

This was also the day that the LC gave us permission to try something called a contact nipple shield. It's basically a little piece of soft plastic that goes over the breast to aid babies with latch issues. I remember getting home from our great outing and watching my baby boy successfully (and quietly) eat for the first time. My mama was so relieved, but I remember feeling so defeated. I wanted to nurse the right way. What was wrong with me?

Josh and I continued visiting the lactation consultants for the first two months of John's life. He had frequent weight checks. The story remained the same. Skinny, scrawny, not-gaining-enough-weight baby. It was very disheartening, but my pediatrician assured me that I could continue breastfeeding until his next appointment. The only problem was that we were moving across the country the next day, and we had to get established with a brand new pediatrician.

Additionally, my pediatrician encouraged me to begin taking an herb called fenugreek to boost my milk supply. Fenugreek and I would become great friends and worst enemies, as it sustained my ability to nurse and caused me weeks worth of engorged misery. I took 12 capsules a day for several months, and boy did I feel the increase! [Note: fenugreek makes Baby's poop really green and runny, should anyone try it. Don't be surprised.]

One month later (at 3 months) when we FINALLY got to see a pediatrician in Michigan, John had gained a whole pound! Praise God! We rested easy for a couple of weeks, but he was still very small, and something in my gut told me that he wasn't getting enough.

My gut proved right when we went to the doctor for his four month check-up, and he had only gained 3 ounces. :( It was then that we began supplementing formula. THIS BROKE MY HEART. However, my baby grew, and motherhood started to become a lot more fun.

He had a lot of formula from 4-6 months. I was still nursing him a few times a day, pumping frequently and giving him the expressed milk, and nursing exclusively at night. I hated giving him formula, and I was not ready to give up yet. I was also extremely motivated by the naysayers. There were a lot of people in my life who told me that formula was the best choice for John. I was not annoyed by their voices. I was motivated to try even harder. Am I stubborn? Willful? Crazed? I don't know. But it worked.

I don't remember when THE latch came. I do know that flying on airplanes certainly helped. I would nurse John the entire flight every time we flew. On a flight home in November, he threw the ninny shield almost immediately upon boarding the plane. I scurried to find it as the plane was taking off with no luck. Yep, he latched well that day. Then, in December, we took 6 different flights in a matter of three days. Intense baby and breast bonding. It was after that trip full of flying that I noticed my son had become a nurser. We soon threw out our ninny shields, our bottles, our formula, and our fenugreek. How many other moms can say, "I weaned my child back onto the breast"? Not many, I'm assuming. I credit God (who often answers prayer in ways we do not expect and would not approve of it we'd known His plans beforehand) and fenugreek.

There is so much that I could say about breastfeeding. But I'll leave it at three words: I LOVE IT! My initial goal was to breastfeed until age two. Of course, when we encountered all of our difficulties, I wondered if I'd even make it to two months. Now I'm back to my initial goal, but I'm following my son's cues. I'd love to know that he self-weaned and nursed until HE was good and ready to quit.

I also just want people to know that you CAN do it. Breastfeeding almost killed me, but I had the best support person possible (my hubby) keeping me sane. Keep at it. Even when it's hard. Even when you think you cannot possibly feed this child anymore. (Good news is: It's rare for a baby to wait until six months to latch.) Endurance. It's a word you think of with sports like basketball or running. I most closely associate it with breastfeeding.

I'll take a slow starter, but a good finisher any day. Love you, John Piggy. Mama's good eater. :)

He's Superman

In this world, I am so incredibly thankful for my husband. 

I know that a lot of women say that their husbands are awesome, or that they married the best man in the whole world. But I really mean it. My husband is awesome, and I married the best man in the whole world. 

I cherish him. Every single day with him. 

He puts me at ease. He makes me feel normal. He rules.

Two years ago when we started talking about having a baby, I didn't stop and think about what kind of dad he'd be. I never wondered or worried about it during my pregnancy either. The thought of Josh as a dad never really crossed my mind. I guess that seems a little weird that I didn't ponder what he might be like when his son or daughter arrived. I think I just intuitively knew that he'd be super at it. Super is an understatement. 

Joshua, I love you.

When John Ashley Beam was born a little over a year ago, I had a RAGING case of the baby blues. I was overwhelmed, emotional, in pain, exhausted, etc. My husband had never had any real experience with babies, but he changed every diaper, responded to every cry; you would have thought John was his third or fourth kid just viewing his comfort level with him and with the whole process. 

I had a really difficult time nursing him in the beginning. Most people thought that I should just give up, just give the baby formula. Six months of wondering if he would ever latch ... Josh stood by me and my decision to nurse. Thanks for that, Boo; it meant/means a lot. 

Josh is such a gifted (spiritually gifted, actually) helper. When we are apart, my friends and family can vouch that I DO NOT have it together because I rely on his help so much. Many women raise kids all by themselves [hats off to you]. I thank God that my husband LOOKS for ways to help me with our son every morning/day/night. You rule, Bub. Thank you!

Joshua is also so actively involved in John's life. He sits at his toy box with him every afternoon to play with him. He reads him books. He watches t.v. with him. (Dinosaur Train is their favorite.) He takes him to the park. He feeds him. He bathes him. He changes his diapers. He prays for him. He makes sure that he has everything he needs. All of this, and John is not even to the age where he can talk, play catch, go camping/hunting/fishing, you know, all of the fun father/son bonding stuff. I know that he is building a bond of trust with John that will last a lifetime. Josh, every little thing that you take the time to do with him matters. Thank you for being such an involved Dada. We love you for it, Mr. Beam!

Josh, I am so PROUD to be married to you. I am so THANKFUL that you are the father of our children. I know that your love will point each of them (them - Lord willing) to our Heavenly Father. You are a man worthy of RESPECT, and I know that it isn't really your thing to be publicly recognized, but I want to give glory to God for the way that His image shows forth through your role as a father. 

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

I can never say thank you enough for all that you do for me and John. 

Happy Father's Day, sweetheart.

Hannah

Hannah.

Hannah's birthday is today.

I was supposed to write her a letter of encouragement a couple of months ago, but I am forgetful and untimely, and a mom. Sorry that I didn't get to give you a letter for your book before you moved, Han. :(

BUT today I dedicate my blog to you because the truth is, it will take a lot of words and space to tell you what your life has meant to mine.

It's even difficult to know where to start, so I'll start at your beginning. The first day you saw me in Biology class. [Haha, this is starting to sound like a romance. Our eyes met, and....] No, no, no, it didn't go that way at all. Actually, I was saying hi to Hannah's now-husband, Randall, and she thought, "How cute. They know each other." Han, it was clear even from the first time you noticed me that God had something cool in store for our future. 

The first day I saw you was in between class and lab when you were showing off your new "sweet little tat" to some of the gals in my lab. I thought, "What a hooligan ... getting a tattoo." ;) I probably even inconspicuously shook my head. 

But the second time I noticed you was at Bible study, and I invited you to my house for dinner and studying. Okay, so not much studying got done, and, yes, EVERYONE knows that I infected myself with salmonella poisoning that night. Even though I felt terrible for over a week following our inaugural dinner, I am so glad that it happened because I met one of the best friends this world has offered me to date. [Love you, Han.]

What followed our Biology experience together was nothing short of amazing: May of 2008. We LIVED together. Some of my favorite memories include the RIVER, the night that all of Fort Bragg was in my house, the scrapbook from, well, you-know-where, and just getting to know you in general. I am so thankful that God allowed us to build such a FUN friendship during that time. Han, the way that you engage the world (so lightheartedly, with so much joy) is such an encouragement to EVERYONE you meet. I pray that you NEVER lose your delightful demeanor. I pray that you will always find your joy in the Lord [and never become so jaded by the world that you lose said joy.] I love hanging out with you because you make me feel so carefree and happy when I'm around you.

Sadly, I left for a month or so after our magical May together, and our spend-every-day together friendship took a brief hiatus.

The next year I got the [wonderful] opportunity to invest in you and help you grow spiritually. [Hannah, you are THE girl that I had been praying for. I thank God that every day that I spent with you was not only SO MUCH FUN, but also counted for eternity. You rule, Han!] As comes with the territory, we hit some bumps along the way, when hard issues came up in both of our lives. I am so thankful that we weathered through and reconciled every time (and continue to do so) with God's help. 

Then we got the news that Randall (your then-boyfriend) would be deploying for a year. :( Over the following two months, both of us got ENGAGED. Mine was an extremely short engagement (less than 5 months), and yours was a long one (over a year). If I may say this, I am so thankful that Randall deployed because it was during that time that we became best friends. It was also during that time that you GREW by leaps and bounds spiritually. [But, thanks be to God, Randall came home safely one year later.]

Thank you, Hannah, for being there for me during a tough engagement. [Thank God that's over.] Thank you for going to Wal-Mart with me at midnight the night before my wedding. ;) Thank you also for taking Geography with me during the fall semester. [How much fun was that?!] Thank you for working at CDS with me. Thank you for coming over to my house every time that there was a thunderstorm. Thank you for organizing every shower/party/fake prom imaginable with me. You were my right hand woman and made everything that I did SO MUCH FUN! I treasure my first year of marriage as one of the best years of my life. You made it great for me just as much as Josh did. I adore you and will always cherish your friendship.

May of 2010 was madness. Two surgeries. Randall came home. :) And our friendship changed. While it was tough for me at the time, it was such a joy to watch you walk down the aisle and become Randall's helper for life. You were such a beautiful bride and you continue to be a shining example of a great wife every day. Randall is so blessed to have you, and I have been so blessed by witnessing you become a great wife. Thanks for letting me be a part of your life.

A few things that I really admire about the modern-day Hannah follow ....

1. I love how diligent you are. You and I are both P's, but you have done such a great job making yourself be proactive about getting today's goals done today. You can outwork/out-task me 25-1. Proverbs 13:4 says, "The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing, while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied." I know that God will continue to bless you and Randall because of your diligence in all areas of life (spiritual and physical).

2. I also love your commitment to quality control in God's girls. If there is an area of weakness/sin in any girl that you're investing in, you let her know. You are passionate about presenting women to Jesus as pure, spotless, and wholly devoted to him (2 Corinthians 11:2-3 remind me of you). I respect your inability to overlook even minor areas of sin. The Church needs more people like you.

3. I love your love of children. Since I've become a mama, it has become apparent how uncomfortable even believers are with children being around. "Stick them in the nursery," they say. "Children are a distraction. Children are hindrances to growth and fellowship." I love that you think just the opposite. You say, "The more the merrier!" You say, "Let me invest in your children, and (in doing so) model the love of Christ for you." You say, "Bring the kids to Bible study. This is how it SHOULD be. Families getting into the Word together." I love this about you, Hannah. I am a little envious of your future children/foster children. You are going to be a fabulous mommy!

Han, there is no way that I could ever put into words the way that your life has impacted mine. I myself don't even understand the full extent of your influence. All I know is that God gave you to me and me to you at EXACTLY the right time for an awesome purpose. We are still discovering that purpose with every passing day that we continue to be friends. I love you, Hannah Grace. I cannot wait to make many more memories as your friend. 

My Baby is One!

Even having the ability to write about a one-year-old baby is surreal. 

He was just born yesterday. 366 days ago.

It is difficult to articulate anything about my son. 

He's that cool. Words don't suffice. But I'll try.

First, Happy Birthday, John Ashley Beam. I love you so much, and I am so proud of the one-year-old that you've grown into.

I remember one year ago today. I worked all day to have you cut out, and then I didn't feel so good. I remember when I met you, when I saw you for the first time. I turned my head as I was strapped down to the operating table. Just a tiny glance, and I breathed a sigh of relief: "Phew. He's cute." I was worried that you wouldn't be cute. Silly mama. You are beautiful. 

Here come the tears. I love you, sonny Boo.

Things got tough after that. When they took me to really meet you in the recovery room, I tried to feed you. You weren't having it. It was very frustrating for both of us, but you eventually caught on to the whole breastfeeding thing (six months later). The first 2 1/2 months were a constant battle of nursing non-stop and you not gaining enough weight. I want you to know that I treasure every single one of those hard days. I would never trade them for anything in the world because they were days spent entirely with you, my precious firstborn son. 

Fast forward to month four when I had to start supplementing formula (HATED THAT! Every second. Mama only wanted you to have the very best.) You started getting chubby, content, and you started looking like me. :) God knew that I needed a little boost to get through those formula days. You also started to be so much FUN to be around. Rolling over. Eating cereal (and getting it EVERYWHERE). Laughing a lot. You are such a joy to me!

Then the magic month came. At six months you LATCHED! I cannot describe to you how proud I was when you finally got it. We were traveling for Uncle Josh's mom's funeral. We had 3 flights to make it to Seattle, and 3 flights to make it home. I nursed you to sleep on every flight (or attempted to). Because of that practice (and the many months before), you learned how to nurse. I weaned you off of formula in the weeks following, thanks to fenugreek and God's grace. I thank God often for the blessing that it's been to breastfeed you. (John, I want to apologize ahead of time for this post when you're older and reading this. Count this as one of my Mama moments to embarrass you. I get a few. Just thank God that I did not pose nursing you on the cover of Time.)

I remember when we went to Disney World with your Aunt Cal and SHE discovered your first tooth. That happened at six months. Your second tooth came about a week-and-a-half later when we were with Honey and Aunt Lindsay, and you had a fever. :(

Then you started crawling. Backwards first (at six months) and forward at seven months. Your first word was "Dadadadada." I was mildly jealous. (You still talk about him WAY more than you do "Mama." What's up with that?!?;) 

At eight months you started pulling up on anything and everything. You also loved to wave and give high fives. 

These last few months have come and gone SO FAST. Is there anything that you can't do now? You can walk. Heck, you can practically run. You're also climbing, clapping, eating all kinds of big people food, and saying "AHHH" when your mouth is empty and you want more. You can say "yeah" and (uh-oh) "no," which you say A LOT. You are one. Your mama can't believe it.

It is really fun to reflect over the last year. You've made me a mom. More than that, as the mama of a one-year-old, you've made me a mom with perspective. 

So, what have I learned?

OH. SO. MUCH.

First thing, there is no such thing as perfection when you're a parent. I am a perfectionist. Always have been. BUT as I've gotten to know John Beam, that perfectionist mentality has been thrown out of the window in rather large chunks. I am thankful for this lesson that you, Boo Boo, have been teaching me because I know that no amount of striving/clawing/fighting/struggling/manipulating/etc. will change the fact that I can't give you everything that you need. I will never be the perfect parent. HOWEVER, my imperfection opens the door for God, the perfect Father [see Matthew 23:9] (and Mother), to step into his rightful place as Lord and Leader of your life. 

Father, I pray that John with trust Christ with his life at a very young age. I pray that he will know THE Father. In Jesus's name.

Secondly, I have learned that everything comes to an end. Your psycho non-latching stage? Over. Your spit-up-everyday stage? Ceases to exist. Your pee-all-over-Dada-at-every-diaper-change-phase? Shucks, that one ended too. ;) 

Father, I pray that you will help Josh and I to savor every age and stage of John Ashley's life. I pray also that we will utilize each passing season's teachable moments to pass on the character/purpose/example of your Son, so that John can partner with us in your Kingdom's advance. In Jesus's name, I ask.

I have learned what it is to truly rely on the grace of God. Parenting is something that I can honestly say I CANNOT do in my own strength. I just don't have a knack for it, but thanks be to God that I can rely on the perfect parent to impart wisdom and supernatural strength to me during my times of greatest need. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 says, "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 

Thank you, Father, for my inability to parent. I have had such a sweet time relying on you for strength. I have seen YOUR grace parent my son. I look forward to many more years of US teaming together to raise Beam children. I adore you, Father.

Finally, I understand (a teensy bit better) the love that God has for me. He loves me because I am His. Some days John is cray cray. He wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and does not do one thing that I like ALL DAY LONG. And yet, I adore him still because his is mine. God feels the same way about those of us He's adopted. He calls us His own and nothing, NOTHING can separate us from His love (Romans 8:38-39). 

Thank you, Father, for loving us as a perfect Father. Unconditionally. Incomprehensibly. In Jesus's name.

God also loves us at our worst. My son cried day and night in his beginning. Our house wasn't pretty. I wasn't pretty. Josh, dare I say, wasn't pretty. We were struggling all because of this little bundle of joy terror. It was in that sleepless, feeling like death state that I began to appreciate how God sent his Son to die for me when I we the whole world was still in sin: "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). This love has made all the difference. This love has given me life.

Father, I pray that you will help me continue to love our Boo Boo when he's at his worst. I pray that my love will point him to You. In Jesus's name.

[If anyone wants to learn about having a relationship with this kind of love (JESUS), shoot me a message on fb or email me. I'd love to share my experience with Christ with you.]

In closing, I want my son to know that this has been the richest year of my life. You have made me the proudest mama in the whole world. I love you much more than this blog could contain or express. 

Oh, and you are the best dancer in America. Maybe in the whole world.

Keep bouncin', Baby Boo.