The Unintentional Lactivist

When I had my son, I always planned to breastfeed.  It was important to me.  I hoped that maybe if I did, he would avoid the horrible allergies that I had growing up.  Kleenex-box-in-every-room-and-the-car allergies.  Immunology-shot allergies.  So I nursed him.  I kept that up for nearly two years with desperate hopes that maybe he would be saved from what I felt was a curse.  I was certain that breastfeeding imparted some sort of protection because of the very scientific evidence of my sister and me.  My mom could only nurse me for four months, my sister went for fourteen.  Guess who didn't have allergies?  (Or not many to speak of, anyway.)

So, I nursed and in public, even with my nursing cover, I was a little timid.  It felt like the whole world was watching me and it made me feel like I had to watch when I did or did not do it.  It probably didn't help that my mom was a little neurotic about it all, freaking out that someone might see me.  Okay, she was truly supportive, just still neurotic. I did alright, but never truly felt comfortable.  Ultimately by 23 months, I was tired of him climbing all over me, and felt I had really given it my best shot.  My goal had really only been one year, anyway. So we worked on weaning and I cherish the relationship we developed.

Fast-forward three years to baby #2.  Maybe it is the fact that I had so much time under my belt from the first one.  Maybe I've just become less self-concious. All I know is that I'm nursing when and where I need to this time around.  I still cover myself as much as possible, but I will nurse her when she needs.  That's a warning to anyone who wants to give me guff for it.  I've had my share of people staring incredulously while I pull on the cover, latch her on and then proceed to walk behind my son.  Maybe their awed by my super-duper breastfeeding skills.  haha  I really feel as if they are saying, "What are you doing nursing her like that here?!?!  Shouldn't you find a corner?"  Thankfully, no one has called me out on it because they might have heard an earful.

And that's what I mean when I say that I've become an unintentional lactivist. I think breastfeeding, if you can do it, is best.  I think that extended breastfeeding is even better for sake of immunity.  There are those pushing me right now to start solids, and I will soon, but starting purely because she is 6 months old seems like a silly reason to me.  I've done the research, exclusive breastfeeding through 7 months increases the likelihood of your child avoiding anemia.  Iron is more readily accessible in breastmilk.  I decided to wait.  It just strikes me as funny that in three short years, I've become so comfortable.

I was struck the other day by the thought that Mary probably breastfed Jesus when and where he needed it.  They probably didn't have the same taboos as we do today, because there was no formula.  People weren't offended because that was just how babies ate.  I cannot imagine that Mary would look down at her baby and say, "Well this is not only my child but my God, however I am not going to feed him right now because someone might be uncomfortable."  Same is true for me.

A million years later, I return

So much has happened since I started trying to keep this blog that I'm not sure I can capture it all right now, especially in the midst of naptime.  I just know that once I get on a roll, someone is going to interrupt me!  And so maybe that is where I should begin.  In the past year and a half since I started the blog, we have added a new baby girl to our family.  And then there were four!  (And what a birth story, but I'll save that for another day.)  Most days I love it immensely and cannot thank God enough for blessing me with this life I call my own.  The smiles and the laughs keep me going and build me up.  My two little ones make living completely worth it.  Even when both are crying and one is throwing up.  (Not that those are fun days...)  There are of course the occasional days where I'm a zombie by the time my beloved husband comes home, but isn't that life?  It's just par for the course to me.  Even working would provide me with a day like that.

When I started writing, I was in the throes of grief.  We had been through three miscarriages.  Three.  One I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.  Three was the kind of drag you to the bottom of the ocean pain that I never thought I would survive.  I was BITTER.  I was mad at God and I just wanted to take it out on someone.  Yet, we survived.  We grew stronger.  Our family is that much more for what we have been through.  I just had yet to realize that.  I had yet to determine that maybe I was not being "smote" for some past wrong doing, maybe things just happen.  Bad, sucky, hard things.  They do.  They happen, and we glean what bit of knowledge that we can from them, and we move on.  Some days that is easier said than done.

It took attending and participating in Christ Renews His Parish to really see God's hand in my life.  To view this change as a blessing in disguise.  I now fully believe that there will be a day when I get to see and hold my little babies.  In the meantime, they are in the best care possible...God's Hands.  Could I ask for more?  Isn't that what I'd ultimately want for my current children on Earth?  We raise our kids hoping that someday they will make it to heaven.  Well, I believe that in God's infinite mercy, my babies are up there.  Had we had the ability to baptize these little lost babies before they made their way beyond, we certainly would have.  It brings me such peace, joy and happiness to believe that.

Here's what I've learned from all of this:
1.  God is great.  He is merciful and loving.  He has a plan, no matter how hard it seems.  Christ holds us up and helps us to keep moving even when we feel that we can't take another step.  We are not alone.

2.  Conception may be hard for us, but it will be worth it.  I've come to terms with the realization that anytime we hope to have children, it may take awhile.  We may end up miscarrying again, maybe more than once.  While that thought brings me some degree of pain, I also am now aware of how strong we really are, and that we can get through it.  I KNOW how special my little ones are to me, and that even if we suffer, they make every day brighter while we have them here.

3.  Plans don't work out as you'd expect.  Trite, I know.  And yet, that doesn't stop every other person from asking us if we are done having children or when we might try again. (Even as we are raising a 6 month-old and a 3.5 year old.)  I answer honestly.  I don't know.  I have no idea what might happen when.  I have no idea if we'll be able to have more children.  I'd love it, and I know God already knows that, but it's not up to me.  If it were up to me, I would probably not have been through our past trials, and I think I would appreciate my current state a little less.  That's not to say that everyone who easily has children takes them for granted, but it does mean that I might have.  I know in the depths of my heart that if I hadn't been through this process, I would probably forget how valuable my children are, especially during the hard days.  Now, I just remind myself how desperately I wanted to be here.  That's always a good, swift kick in the pants!

4.  Life is good. I've said it previously, and it still rings true.  I never feel the need to stop marveling at how amazing my life has become, how much the Lord has blessed me.  I hope that I'm passing on these blessings to meet his satisfaction.  It's truly a humbling experience to be a wife and mother.  I am just so thrilled to be along for the ride!