Natural

Abraham was recently pictured on Natural Parents’ Network on their Wordless Wednesdays feature about food. After he was pictured and I shared the link with my family and friends, I wondered to myself if I am actually a natural parent. What does that really mean?

There is a long list of what it means to be a natural parent on their website.

I prepared to have a natural birth at a birth center, but I found on my due date that Abraham was breech, so we had a c-section and it wasn’t so bad.

We went around and around about the decision, but we circumsized Abraham because we are Jewish and that heritage is important to us, even though we still wrestle with our choice.

I nurse Abraham and intend to as long as we both are enjoying it, but I also supplement his nursing with formula to keep him on the right weight track.

He sleeps with us, but I’m looking forward to getting would love to get him to sleep on his own so I can have a little space and time back to myself.

I fed him food at 4.5 months old (which is a bit early) but he was full-body-lunging for it. I also give him food that is not organic or local. Local is preferred, but the child loves avocados, which aren’t exactly native to Pennsylvania.

I have 3 different baby carriers, all of which I love to use, but damn, it is nice to push him in a stroller in this hot weather.

We are vaccinating Abraham on a regular schedule. We feel it is our responsibility to him and to our community to ensure that diseases that have died out stay gone.

What is most true is that I hate all of these parenting labels. They are shortcuts, sure, but they are also pegboards. I never have enjoyed being pegged (though I think I’m pretty predictably peg-able…) in any position, especially being a mother.

So that’s it. I’m a mother. I’m a step mother. Those describe my relationships to my kids. That is all. Every choice I make as either is not because I’m a natural parent, a free-range parent, a whatever parent. It is just because I’m a parent and I’m always trying to do the right thing for each of my kids.

Eating is Yoga

So much of Abraham’s life has been so easy. He is adorable, happy, healthy, easy-going…I could go on. And I have found being a mother (not just a step-mother) to be quite easy too. I’m a little sleepy and a little slobbered-on, but I really can’t complain.

I keep rubbing up against his eating. I’ve written before about breast feeding him. I am still breastfeed him, and I intend to as long as he wants to (the WHO recommends 2 years!). We also give him bottles as a supplement, 8 or 10 ounces a day. I hate it. Every time I give him a bottle, I feel like I’m failing as a mother. Because I WANT to nurse him and I CAN’T. Because in 2003, I choose to have a breast reduction. It was badly needed and I don’t actually regret it. I just wish I could have both small boobs and milky boobs.

We went to the pediatrician today and Abraham is still small. Gaining weight and height, but a little too slowly. So more formula for him and solid food.

The food I’m excited about. He wants to eat – he sits on my lap at dinner and lunges toward the tables, reaches for my water glass, and of course puts everything, edible or not, into his mouth. I even shared my banana with him last night – he sort of licked it a while, then tried to suck. He yelped when it was finished.

He yelps when his bottles are finished too. He is hungry (how ironic that he is wearing his Very Hungry Caterpillar outfit today…”but he was still hungry”). He isn’t starving, but he wants more. And it is so hard for me to give it to him. Because every bottle feels like a failure.

I run to him when he cries from a nap, I kiss his tummy to make him laugh, I work so hard to give him a happy and comfortable life. Why can’t I enjoy feeding him a bottle?

David said to me, on our way home from the pediatrician’s office, “it doesn’t seem very yogic to not feed him” and I know it isn’t. It is selfish, it is my ego wrapped up in my identity as a breastfeed-er. I have met most of my mom friends at La Leche League for goodness sake.

I can still be a breastfeed-er and give my child a bottle or 3 to make sure he grows well. He will get the health benefits from breastmilk and breastfeeding and the caloric benefits from formula. I can snuggle him as he drinks his bottle and snap photos when he holds it himself.

How is this practicing yoga, you ask? Yoga is defined several times in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. My favorite sutra (literally thread, a piece of an idea) of late is 1.12: Abhyasa vairagyabhyam tan nirodhah – The mind is stilled by practice and dispassion.

Parenting, like yoga, is a practice. It is done uninterruptedly, with devotion, over a long time (sutra 1.14). My goal as a parent, especially to Abraham (versus the big kids where I am a secondary parent as their step-mom), is to be completely present for him and give him what he needs but then step back and let him fly. Giving him bottles is part of that.

And now I will wipe the tears out of my eyes and get a bottle ready for when he wakes up from his nap (to give him after he nurses of course).

so proud of his hand-to-mouth dexterity

ADDITION: Friends, don’t worry. I may feel like a failure of a mother inside, but I know he will be ok and I will be ok. It is a feeling and only a feeling. I appreciate your kind, private words of encouragement.

EBF

I am Exclusively Breast Feeding Abraham. This experience is a big deal.

All of my time and thoughts and physical comforts are devoted to his nourishment. What a gift to be able to feed someone else and also what a lot of work.

When I say all of my time, I’m not really exaggerating. He nurses almost constantly. David doesn’t get to hold him as much as he’d like (or I’d like – they need to bond too!), but I get lots of time with the babe.

I went to the Farmer’s Market today with my friend from Childbirth Class. Abraham slept the whole time, but I was worried he’d wake up and cry to eat. I am not quite ready to feed him in such a public place.

My thoughts are almost all focused on my breasts. Not in a sexy way. When I get dressed, I choose my shirt based on its easy access. I have to make sure I’m drinking enough (I’m probably not…) and eating well. I have to keep an assortment of creams nearby to keeping the breasts happy between meals.

I feel like a 24 hour buffet. I love it and wouldn’t trade it for anything, but it is nice when he sleeps and takes a break. My poor nipples; I’m worried they will never be the same.

I was worried I wouldn’t be able to breastfeed at all; in 2003, I had a breast reduction. I had no idea, like other women in the same situation, if I would be able to breastfeed. When I was 22 and uncomfortable, I didn’t care so much about it; I wanted my back pain and the attention on my chest to stop. I always said the reduction was the best decision I ever made. But then I got pregnant and I started to worry that it wasn’t. I read about Breast Feeding after Reduction and tried to prepare for whatever was to come.

I’ve been feeding Abraham since he was born. It isn’t without difficulty, but I don’t want to complain. It turns out this experience is what I wanted most – more than a natural birth. I am amazed at my body’s ability and rehability every day, and I try to remember that when it hurts, when I’m exhausted, when I need a moment to myself.

I have been a huge advocate for breast reductions. I still am. If I had not been able to breastfeed would I still be? If something goes wrong and I have to stop, will I still be? How could I have known then what I would feel like now, what would be important to me? And if I have to stop feeding him, because of my past choices rather than a decision based on our current needs, how will I feel?

I try not to worry and just feel grateful that I have this time. That we have the time together.