work – Page 4 – mommy in the midwest

Sometimes my job is hard to take. Everyone’s job is hard to take at times, I know, but since I became a mama my job has gotten even tougher. See, I work in the field of child welfare. From the time I get to work until the time I hit the door on the way out, I am bombarded with all of the different ways that parents can hurt, ignore, insult, and damage their own flesh and blood. Their own flesh and blood.

It baffles me when I look at the sweet, innocent face of my flesh and blood. My precious baby is a part of me. He is a product of the love that his father and I share. He is a product of the desire that we had to combine our families and allow our relationship to live on through future generations. He is the reason that we strive to be healthier, drive safer, eat better, and save more. His little life is already a part of our past and will forever be part of our present and future lives. He’s who I picture when I think about Christmases and birthday parties in the upcoming years…soccer games and getting his driver’s license…me crying hysterically when he goes away to college and again when he gets married. Maybe even again when he becomes a parent himself, because now I understand what an honor and responsibility that is. So many of my dreams now revolve around who my perfect little baby turns out to be.

I have a big role in that. I believe it’s my duty as a parent to make sure my child is confident and kind. We have to teach him about acceptance and tolerance. He will learn right from wrong and he will stumble along the way, but he will be given the chance to make decisions and with that, mistakes. He will look back on his childhood and smile, because he will one day appreciate that his parents gave all they had to give, while fostering independence from an early age. It’s the way that my husband and I were raised.

I have heard about the hurtful things parents say to their children. I know for a fact that it is damaging. Whether something hurtful was said one time or a million times, hurtful words don’t go away like bruises or broken bones. I don’t ever want to say something to my baby that he replays in his head years later and still feels a sting.

I have heard about parents that beat or smother their children to death. I have heard about parents that smack their child in the face every single day. I have heard about a mother who threw her infant on a concrete sidewalk. I have heard stories about a mother’s boyfriend who hung her child up on a coat hook for HOURS. I have heard about mothers who leave their newborn babies in dumpsters to die. Don’t they know there are people who are dying to take care of and love that baby like their own? I have heard about parents who starve their children for punishment. I have heard about parents who force their own precious flesh and blood to have sex with them or perform other sexual acts on them. I have heard about parents who are so addicted to drugs that they can’t or won’t provide for their child’s most basic human needs. I could go on and on for days with the stories I have heard.

It is downright painful sometimes, hearing about parents who fail to take advantage of the awesome opportunity and the at-times-overwhelming responsibility that comes with creating a brand new person and inviting him to live this life under their protective wing. How could anyone be so cruel to someone so innocent and defenseless?

It really gets me down, when I think about kids today. So many kids are growing up in these kinds of homes. What do we expect these children to do with their lives? What kind of parents do we expect them to be? What are we teaching today’s babies about who they can trust? It truly is a shame that it so easy for ignorant people to reproduce. It’s one of life’s greatest blessings and curses. It seems like the people who wouldn’t be authorized to parent are the ones that reproduce the most easily and go on to have perfectly healthy babies, only to be abused and neglected. On the other hand, I’ve seen so many fantastic couples struggle with sick children and infertility who have done everything by the book.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: My occupation is a constant reminder of the charge that has been placed upon me to parent my child the the best of my ability. If it weren’t for my job, I might take that responsibility for granted. I know that I have been given a gift and I will try my best not to take that gift for granted.

~C~

Theodore is almost six months old and I am still nursing him. This has not been an easy choice or an easy road and I’m proud of myself for making it as long as I have. Especially considering that my job requires me to be away from him for 20 hours at a time, 3-4 days a week, which means A LOT of pumping.

I. Hate. Pumping. (on the floor in the corner of a conference room … you get the picture).

I have noticed a decrease in my supply recently but so far, I am still able to make enough milk for him. I pump exactly what he is eating now, give or take an ounce here and there. It has been stressful to see my supply decline, but since our freezer is halfway full of frozen milk, I guess it’s good that I’m not producing so much excess now.

Initially my goal was to nurse until I went back to work. Once I made it 12 weeks, I decided to aim for 6 months. Now that I am close to making it 6 months, I want make it to the 1 year mark. I am skeptical that my milk supply will last, but that’s the goal.

Some days I think I’ve made it this far, why not just give it up? It would certainly make life easier in some ways. I wouldn’t have to lug this HEAVY bag back and forth every day and be held hostage to the annoying plastic apparatus and whiny motor for 20 minutes at a time. I wouldn’t have to worry about what people are going to think if I have to (or choose to) nurse my baby in public. But then, when it’s not so stressful, I can’t see giving this up while it is still an option. I feel like I would be robbing my baby of something he loves. Not to mention the cost savings, which has been a big motivator.

On the whole choosing to breastfeed or not to breastfeed note … I’ll apologize in advance if this is offensive. I’m annoyed by the idea of people saying they couldn’t breastfeed if they didn’t really try. If you choose not to breastfeed, fine. I can understand that. It’s not easy. Say you chose not to breastfeed. I don’t judge anyone for that. If you have a medical reason why you cannot do it, fine. I understand that too. Before I had Theodore, I always said I was going to “try” to breastfeed because I knew so few mothers that had successfully nursed their babies for a substantial length of time. I just assumed that he wouldn’t latch on or I wouldn’t have enough milk. In general, I was pretty pessimistic about breastfeeding.

As I learned more about it, I realized that very few women “can’t” breastfeed. After Theodore was born, I learned why so many women don’t breastfeed. No pun intended, it SUCKS. At first anyway. I have said and continue to believe that learning to breastfeed, at least for me and Theodore, was more painful and difficult than childbirth. Why? Not because childbirth was easy or painless by any stretch, but the worst of it lasted seconds to minutes. The pain of a baby that isn’t latching correctly over and over and over and over 8 to 10 times a day for 3-4 weeks was simply torture. I cried. He cried. I wanted to give up so many nights.

I know for a fact that if I’d had a baby 10 years ago, I would not have stuck with breastfeeding. Being a little older and more mature has certainly made a difference in my determination.

I used nipple shields, breast shelves (or is it shells?), hydrogel pads, ointments, creams, and everything else out there until we got it right.

Now? Now it’s effortless. Painless. I’d go as far as to say that I *gasp* enjoy it. No, that’s not true…I love it.

I will be really sad if my milk supply dries up before I’m ready to stop nursing. I made the choice to do it and stuck with it when I hated (yes, I know hate is a strong word…I mean it) feeding my son. I felt so guilty for dreading meal times. It makes perfect sense why so many people don’t follow through with it, but it is so worth it when you get past the hump.

It might be more bearable if you weren’t trying to go over that hump at the same time as the crashing hormones hump (night sweats, anyone?), postpartum recovery hump (2nd degree tears, anyone?), and the sleepless nights (and days) hump. It’s enough to make anyone quit breastfeeding, but saying that it was impossible when it was just too hard somehow takes something away from the few that fight through the misery to make it work.

Just sayin’…

~C~