The Generational Jump: How Views on Breastfeeding have Changed in the Past 50 Years

"Are you feeding that baby food yet?" "No, Nan. She's only 3 months old. She can't eat solids yet." "Nonsense! What about homo milk?" "No, I'm breastfeeding her." "That's disgusting. Give that baby a bottle, you're starving her". I can still hear the voice of my seventy year old Grandmother lecturing me on the prehistoric values of infant nutrition. I still roll my eyes at the thought of it all. At the time, this conversation rocked me to my very core. Was this woman from Mars? Had she never scanned a parenting book in her life? Probably not. But this was my Nana. She was not that old. How could 2 women's take on parenting be so different? What changed in the past 50 years?

Maybe it's just me but I have encountered many older women recently who have conflicting views on breastfeeding. Women in my church, workplace, and my own family have revealed to me their objective opinions on the subject. "I never breastfeed. It was too weird" or "Breastfeeding was not for me. I saw what it did to my mother and I did not want any part of that." It got me thinking: What triggered this change?

I don't think any one source can be traced but the reality is things have really changed. My bookworm self would love to slam my Grandmother with some 30+ articles I've read on the benefits of breastfeeding or that infants can't actually swallow solids until at least 4 months, but what's the point. Old philosophies die hard and at the end of the day, I'm the Mama.

My Husband: The Father

My husband: Steve. I love him so much. I have been truly blessed to me married to a delightful man. Quirky, yes...sarcastic, definitely...but wonderful. Despite all this I found myself in a bit of a moral dilemma during my 9 months of pregnancy. A question that kept plaguing me each time I would stare at him: "Was he going to be a good father?" By this point I knew there was no turning back. Nore would I have wanted to. We both wanted this, but I was about to coast uncharted waters. This was a man I had been with for 10 years, an entire decade. I had seen every angle of him. From his skinny rock guitar days, to his green mohawk phase, from his McD's manager moments, to his lab geek years. I had seen him transform into a boyfriend, a university graduate, a husband, provider, the leader of our pack but this? Was he ready? Was I ready to sail with him into this new role?

It almost came to blows when I brought home birthing books and videos: "Would you watch this with me?" "No thanks." "Why not?" "Are you kidding? I want no part of that." I was so ticked. This was his baby too. Did he not want to experience the miracle of birth? Clearly not. "That is a sacred area, Hun! I just can't see that." I put myself in Steve's shoes and eventually I got where he was coming from. But at the time, I questioned the very foundation of what his parental involvement would look like.

When Natalie Anne came into the world on February 26th, 2011, I saw a side of Steve I had never witnessed before. As he held his little girl, a look of total bliss washed across his face. She was his legacy and he was overjoyed. He walked the hospital halls with a strut like a rooster or something. It was like he'd won the lottery. As I looked my husband holding our daughter I realized that he was the one that was glowing now.

Natie is 3 months now and Steve took to fatherhood like a duck to water. I mean it. It was amazing to watch. He stepped up to the plate and has done everything he can for her. He bathes her, reads to her, changes her, sings to her, laughs with her, educates her, kisses and hugs her. It's incredible. I realize now that I could not have picked a more perfect fit. Sure he is not always 100% but neither am I. Natie is baby #1, our little experiment, the trial and error kid as we were with our folks. I don't know how fatherhood will look on Steve when Natie's 20 but I anticipate many more years of learning, laughing, and other parental shenanigans with him.    

Having a Baby Doesn't Have to Be Expensive!

A few weeks ago, Steve and I had one of our married couple friends (Matt and Kathleen) over for a morning coffee. We sat out on our backyard porch chatting over steaming mugs as Natie watched on in her swing. Church, work, outdoor activities were among the topics discussed until the inevitable happened: the baby talk. "Babies are way too expensive" Matt exclaimed. As I looked at his wife, I laughed. Then I looked back at Matt and said "But it doesn't have to be". This discussion triggered my need to blog about it.

I have been so blessed with Mommy friends who have children. So when I get an opportunity to score free clothes from them, I jump on it. I remember my girlfriend Ruth saying to me once: "I would have given you clothes a long time ago, but I did not want to offend you." Free is not offensive, it's a huge help for a new Mom. So here are some tips I have learned to raising a baby on a budget:

Step 1- Accept help from friends and family. This can come in the form of an open bag of disposable diapers or garbage bags full of hand-me-down clothes. Smile and take it. Trust me, it's worth it.

Step 2 - Yard Sales are your friend. Steve and I have found such joy in our family yard sale trips on the occasional Saturday morning. We set out with an idea of what we need and off we go. We have been able to get a pack and play, an exersaucer, a winter sled, a kiddy pool, a picnic table, books, toys, and a free First Step wagon all for under $100 thanks to garage sales. Check your local paper and head out. You might just find an amazing deal.  
Step 3- Network! Facebook and kijiji are amazing for finding what you need. So surf away!

Step 4- Give when you can. If you find you are swimming in stuff don't be afraid to extend the same charity that was given to you. You will find a cycle of receiving and giving will occur.

That's all I have for now. Think cheap...you're baby won't know that difference but you're bank account will!

"Am I trendy yet?" One Mom's Confessions and Conviction on Baby Brands

When I first got pregnant, I thought I had an idea about how big the baby market was. A stroller here, diapers there. It all seemed so simple. Until my first trip to Babies R Us, I had no idea. Blankets, bibs, burp cloths, bum cream, swings, slings, strollers, potties, pacifiers, and the toys. OH MY WORD! It was like a quick sand pit of crap I knew I didn't need. But (it always starts with but), it was all so cute.

My baby shower was such a wonderful time of fellowship and celebration. Amazing food and friends. Then came the gifts. I sat waist deep trying to figure out what half this stuff did. I thought it was just me until I brought the gifts home and my husband looked just has puzzled. I could hear the voice of family and friends saying "this is so great" or "what a lifesaver this was". We got so much stuff, we ended up having to return most of it. We just did not have the space or brain capacity to deal with it all.

Since being home, I have been sucked into this baby merchandise black hole. There are so many brands nowadays that every Mom I know feels she "needs" (I'm one of them): Bumbo, Baby Bjorn, Graco, Fisher Price, Playgro, Safefit, Elfie, Bily, Baby Delight, Doug and Melissa, Blabla, Lamaze, Quinny, Bugaboo Frog, Robeez, Medela, Prince Lionheart, Chicco, Funzies, Grovia, MAM, Orbit, Nuk...you get the idea. The market is so big, it makes me a little nauseous. Yet I admit to buying into. Completely guilty!

We received a Sophie the Giraffe as a baby shower gift and for some reason, I was so excited. Jumping around like a pregnant Humpty Dumpty. Steve looked at me and was like"it's a glorified squeaky dog toy". When I told him how much it cost he nearly cracked: "$30 for a plastic giraffe? Are you mental?" I laugh now, but he's right. What did I feel I needed all this crap? As a status? For show? It certainly was not for my daughter. She was happy staring off into space or blowing spit bubbles.

It's funny how we Mom's feel the need to follow the trends of this western society of ours. I mean, I admit my kid wears robeez, will soon be sporting a gdiaper bum, and lights up at the sound of Sophie's squeak, sure. But we need to get real. I need to get real. This is just stuff, not a status. To pay $50 for a pair of baby uggs or $3000 for a stroller because Elton John or Michelle Williams are pushing their kids in it is slightly ludicrous. No? It might just be me. I don't mean to sound bitter but I have felt conviction in all this. It's just stuff and I need to get over it.

"Is this normal?" My First Week of Motherhood

"Wow, I'm a Mom. I can't believe this." I recall sitting in my hospital bed the day after Natie's birth saying these exact words to my Mom. What I didn't say outloud kept playing over and over again in my head: "Now what?"  It was a surreal moment. In a matter of 40 minutes under the knife, my life had completely changed. My head was swimming and my body was throbbing. I had this little person in pink in my arms who was completely dependent on me, in someway, for the rest of her life. All I could think in that moment was: "What am I gonna do now?"

The first day I got home was such a relief. My hospital bed was horrible but the drugs seemed to help me cope (lol). When Steve and I got home, we opened the door and everything seemed...different somehow. Our apartment wasn't just our apartment anymore but our home. If I could compare that first week of parenting for Steve and myself, I would say it reminded me of a baby horse learning to walk. Dumb and slightly pathetic. Completely comical. Stumbling all over itself but then at some point, it finds its footing and off it goes. That was us. That week was full of laughter and tears, it was wonderful.

Now the sad part was that I was a complete mess. I was healing from major surgery, having to learn how to nurse, and probably what annoyed me the most was that I was an emotional basket case. I would be on the phone with a family member or friend and just start balling. The thought of my Mom or husband leaving rocketed me into such a depression I wanted to scream. I remember sitting down with my midwife Mel and asking "is this normal?" She smiled. "Completely normal but if it does not improve, let us know." I knew exactly what she meant. I read "Down came the Rain" by Brooke Shields and I did not want to be one of those new Mom's battling Postpartum Depression on top of everything else. Luckily, the emotion wave calmed and as I healed I started to feel like myself again.

In the first few weeks of Motherhood, I read an amazing book that I recommend to any woman who is pregnant or already a mother called "Misconceptions: Truth, Lies, and the Unexpected on the Journey to Motherhood" by Naomi Wolf. This book helped me get through that week of feeling hopeless and lame. It taught me that becoming a "Mother" is not immediate but a process. With that knowledge in hand each day, I stride towards learning more about my myself as I raise my little girl.   

Birthing: Smoke and Mirrors

Birth! Need I say more. I watched countless videos on the miracle of birth during my pregnancy. I sat through story after story of close girlfriends describing their beautiful birthing experience thrilled to be able to soon share my own. But when February 25th rolled around and I was still hugely pregnant at 41 weeks, the fog lifted. I was left feeling so discouraged wondering if this was ever going to happen. I ate curry, I bounced on a yoga ball, I drank 3 cups of raspberry leaf tea a day, walked everywhere and nothing. Not a contraction, no broken water, no dilation, zilch. 36 hours after being admitted to our local hospital on that day, I had a feeling that the fairy tale of birth that I had envisioned was an illusion. I imagined this amazing process that I would go through, natural and normal. Yet as I sat in my hospital room I felt violated, cheated! This was my biologic right. I wanted the journey, the story, and yes maybe even the pain. After hearing woman after woman yelling in the birthing room next to mine, I felt like Rachel from Friends: "Don't bring another woman in here. I can't listen to another baby being born if it isn't mine". But after 3 failed attempts at induction, I saw it coming. "You're going to need a c-section" and "We want to make sure this baby is safe and healthy". I balled. Not at the idea of having major abdominal surgery, but at losing the opportunity to experience a natural childbirth. The door was closed and I had to accept it. I remember my husband and sister in law praying with me just before I went in. We prayed for peace and submission and that's exactly what God gave me. When my little Natalie came out on February 26th, 2011, I realized how silly this whole thing was. I put so much pressure on myself for no reason, really. All that mattered to me in that moment was that God had blessed me with a beautiful healthy baby girl.

One day I do hope to experience natural childbirth but if I don't, that's OK. My idea of birth before was all smoke and mirrors, I know that now. I fabricated a fairy tale that was not meant to be. But I learnt something in the alternative. This child of mine is a gift from God and the packaging she was sent in, though rough and unexpected, never mattered.