It was sad. I
just found out my close friend didn’t get to breastfeed her kids. As she watched me nurse my newborn, she
told me how she wished she had.
She is such an inspiring woman, gave up her career to be a fulltime mom. She had medical practitioners like her
in her family, and surrounded by loving people, but nobody cheered her on when
she struggled about nursing. No
one assured her that the hard part was going to be over.
I can so understand her. I know how it feels to be anxious about milk supply. I’ve seen my eldest struggle just to
latch on, and cry almost unceasingly out of frustration. I went through the day with so little
time to eat, sleep, and go to the bathroom, being at the beck and call of a
tiny infant every 1½ hours! I
smelled of spoiled breastmilk, lungad,
pee, sweat and tears all day. I
never thought it was going to be that difficult. My Ate warned me that the first time the baby sucks, it
would be so painful, your toes will curl up and exchange places with each
other! And she was so right. I prayed so hard it would be over
soon. And like my Lamaze
experience, just when I wanted to give up, it was soon over. I toughened up as baby Mishka and
I bonded, and the rest is magical history.
I have since then, for 17 years now, been a breastfeeding
fan. But, no, I never imagined to
be one. I was too young to
remember being breastfed as a baby.
All I could recall was the comforting sensation from sucking milk
through a yummy rubber nipple on a heavy glass bottle. I did not get exposed to women
breastfeeding in my family, except my mom, who nursed my younger sister for a
few weeks as Mama had to go back to work. And somehow it felt awkward. Funny how such a natural thing, wasn’t
normal in my experience. Maybe
it’s because aside from having a career woman-mom, I was urbanized, and was
from a generation which regarded formula as most superior. We did not have ads saying “Breastmilk
is best for babies…” then.
The first convincing pep talk I got about the benefits of
breastmilk was when I attended a Lamaze class with my older pregnant
sister. But she worked fulltime
after giving birth, and after a few weeks, Ate could not keep up. As my friends were getting married and
pregnant, I witnessed them trying it out and in public(!), even if it was out
of their character. Even though
during that time, it wasn’t as acceptable as it is now. And that was impressive.
At my church and workplace, I met women, both employed and
stay-at-home housewives, who breastfed.
One even did until her child was age 4. That was highly unimaginable for me.
Yet, I gave it a try.
And by God’s grace, I hurdled the first months of engorged heavy
feverish breasts; sore, cracked, bleeding nipples; sleeplessness; backaches;
pumping rituals; crying over spilled and spoiled stored milk; and not being
able to just get up and go whenever I wanted, without tagging baby along. Every trip out of the house was a
production number. It was tiring,
tense-filled, terrible, troublesome.
But I went through it nevertheless. I found out how much convenient it was
to breastfeed than bottlefeed!
Aside from my Ate who started me off in it, who with my mom would place
pillows around me to make nursing as comfy as possible, and my parents-in-law
who cheered me on, I could not count on anyone else to be La Leche League for
me. I had books, but even my pedia
wasn’t really for it, too. She didn’t have a
pleasant experience nursing her firstborn as the baby was allergic to her milk.
But I was blessed to have a circle of moms who encouraged
me, and househelp to manage the household, and take over during toxic
moments. I have a very supportive
husband who patiently takes care of our babies, so I could take a break. One night, as I was crying in the
shower, in duet with my eldest crying in my husband’s arms, I heard my hubby
shout in pain. He had playfully
tried to comfort our baby by offering his breast, only to be grabbed by our
son’s voracious mouth. If he could
nurse, he would!
Why go through the trouble three more times? Because as the advertisements proclaim and studies prove: breastmilk IS best for baby. Breastfeeding saves us from the big bills purchasing cans of milk, vitamins, and medicines, and spares us from hospital expenses as baby rarely gets sick. But more importantly, it gives me deep joy, outweighing all the distress. I marvel at how God has so designed my body to share of its strength. He created my body to nourish and nurture a life dependent on me, to communicate security and love to my little one, to constantly stay by him to bond with and express my deep commitment to, to ensure a powerful immune system and a healthy emotional and intellectual development for him, to regenerate and rebuild itself through the process, to powerfully fight cancer and other dreadful diseases it is prone to, and yes, to feel loved in return. The baby makes sure you feel it. As she feeds, she stares at you, and flashes smiles at you, unequalled by any word of gratitude. And when he grows up, he stays close. And grateful.
I used to think breastfeeding was all for baby’s sake until
I discovered it is all for me too.
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