Rediscovering Joyful Parenting

This past week I caught myself lying to my therapist.

I made a note in my phone to talk to her about potentially stopping breastfeeding. I thought we would talk about it for a few minutes, but we ended up chatting about it for most of my session.

Turns out I have A LOT of “good mom” narratives wrapped up in breastfeeding and I found myself saying things out loud I’m not sure I totally believed. I told her it was “easy” with Poppy- that she didn’t cluster feed and was sleeping well. But honestly, I don’t think there is anything easy about breastfeeding. What I probably meant was that it was “easier” than what I experienced with Ginny.

I breastfed Ginny for eight months. To say the culture around breastfeeding in Brooklyn was intense is an understatement- it felt like a requirement. Out of about twenty women in my mom’s group I was the first to stop breastfeeding. Even though everyone said “fed is best” it was pretty clear from the moms I was surrounding myself with that you SHOULD breastfeed your baby for a full year AT LEAST.

Even though there were days when I thought it would break me, I refused to give her even a drop of formula in the beginning. I even fought with my mom and Sal about it the first day we brought Ginny back from the hospital. I thought giving her formula would make me less of a mom. And as a stay at home mom, I thought it was part of my job to breastfeed night and day.

But during the height of my postpartum depression I remember the pain it caused me, the exhaustion I felt while I was doing it, and the weight I put on myself to keep my baby fed. And as a result I blamed myself for her low weight gain, her jaundice, and the fact that she didn’t sleep. I even envied moms who had some medical reason not to continue doing it because deep down, I wished I had the courage to stop.

Hindsight as they say is 20/20 and when Poppy was born, I asked the nurse for formula the first night we were in the hospital. I wanted it just in case we needed it and I also didn’t want to feel the burden that keeping her alive was all on my shoulders. Despite the ups and downs I had breastfeeding Ginny I knew I wanted to breastfeed Poppy because of the immunity she would receive during the Omicron wave of COVID-19. I was even advised by my OBGYN to put some breast milk into Ginny’s cereal in the morning to give her immunity an extra boost.

Fast forward three months and I’ve been considering stopping breastfeeding and swapping over to formula entirely. But I feel guilty about it because I know how much harder it could be. Like I told my therapist it’s not going that bad. Although it was a struggle the first few weeks to get her latched properly things are now going fine. Poppy is growing and sleeping great for her age, but still I feel myself longing for more freedom. Am I a bad mom for choosing my needs over those of my child? How can I reckon with the freedom I want vs the benefits my daughter will get from breastmilk, especially during a global pandemic?

There isn’t one clear solution, but I know deep down my urge for more time to myself is valid. My desire to go out to dinner with friends or not want to pump at a speaking event doesn’t make me a bad mom. We hold onto lots of narratives as parents, but one I’m trying to remind myself is a “happy mom is a good mom.” Putting myself first means I can give more to everyone else, it’s okay for me to want to fill my own cup. I don’t have to be the martyred mother who depletes herself- I was that mother and it made me miserable.

As parents don’t we constantly make sacrifices for our kids at the drop of a hat anyway? What would happen if I let things be easy? What if I gave myself a little break and gave her formula just because I wanted to?

So I took the leap and did it.

At first I was nervous, and a little sad but Poppy latched onto the bottle like a little puppy, gulping the whole thing down effortlessly. Until that moment her and I had to be connected at the hip, but now anyone in my family would be able to feed her. I would no longer be her one and only. I let the sadness of this new transition wash over me, when something else bubbled to the surface- a feeling of relief, and of joy. A joy so bright it carried me through the day.

And while I’m sure I’ll still find lots of moments to feel guilty about as a mom, I hope I’ll continue to allow myself those moments of joy too. Because we all deserve a break, to have things be easy, and to follow our instincts to do what’s right for us.

This process has been a great reminder to me that being a parent isn’t just about the sacrifices- it’s about the deep connection, love, and joy you get the privilege of experiencing everyday too.

Xx,

Erin

PS- If you live in the Buffalo area join me for a special screening and Q&A of Year One at Seneca One on May 18th. Click here to get tickets.

Live near NYC? I’ll see you May 3rd!