I have been pretty open about my breastfeeding journey with Birdie here. Two years ago I shared about my genuine desire to have that amazing experience that all the books talk about and you hear about from women who get all misty eyed when describing the feeling they get from feeding their child. I got none of that. I wanted so badly to feel all the feels like everyone else but it just wasn't there. Instead, for me, there was a lot of heartache, gilt, anger, frustration and sadness. So when Birdie turned four months old I threw in the towel. I let it go and I tried not to think about it. She grew healthy, happy and big and made it easy for me to forget that I was doing anything differently than I had imagined.
When I became pregnant with Teddy I began to let the dream of a good breastfeeding experience enter my consciousness one little tiny glimmering "maybe" at a time. When papa bear would ask me what my expectations were I would cooly tell him that "I'll just be happy regardless" when deep down I hoped and prayed for something different this time. As I entered my third trimester I began to hold my breath. Then everyone and their grandma started to "help" me temper my expectations by telling me that generally speaking c-section babies tend to not nurse well. The day Teddy was to be born my mind was a foggy mess from anesthesia and the exhausting game that is convincing myself I don't care so that what I care about so deeply can happen "naturally."
Then came that moment I waited for for nine months - they placed his warm squirmy body on my chest and we gave it a try... He latched on instantly, perfectly, as if he had been doing nothing but nursing for nine whole months and began to nurse. But I still held my breath. After all the first time I nursed Birdie was magical and wonderful too. Four days later my supply came in I got two new babies to coddle and take care of as I was blessed beyond measure. I had supply issues with Birdie from day one so this was such a welcome change and yet still, I held my breath. We went into our second month nursing happily, though around the clock, and still I continued to hold my breath. I kept waiting for that "itch" that I had with Birdie, those feelings of resentment followed by gut punches of guilt. The third month went by and we were happier than ever when cocooned together during feedings.
Now Teddy is about to turn five months and I can honestly say I've finally allowed myself to exhale. I've finally allowed myself to relish the fact that this time around this really is different and it's a blessing I don't take a single second of it for granted. Just the other day I was driving back home with him sleeping soundly in his car seat after a doctor's appointment that confirmed that the poor guy is in fact just teething and I felt what can only be described as "homesick." I tried to figure out what this meant and soon I realized that I felt "off" all morning because it was almost one and he hadn't nursed since seven that morning when he woke up. I missed it, terribly. I missed our snuggle time that I have now become so accustomed to. Whereas with Birdie every feeding left me feeling tense, exhausted and wound up, nursing Teddy has become my time to relax and unwind during the day - to just gaze at his sweet face and trace those features of his that have become familiar to me over these last few months. And I am blown away by these feelings.
Interestingly enough being able to happily nurse Teddy has made me feel so much better about my experience with Birdie and let go of a lot of the guilt I was still holding onto. For a solid year I wondered if I had done something wrong - did I pump too early, not early enough, too much, not enough, should I have never given her the bottle or pacifier, was I holding her wrong, should I have used that stupid boppy pillow after all? I could whip myself into a frenzy worrying about all the things I possibly did wrong. But Teddy showed me that none of it really matters. He was a c-section baby and wasn't "supposed" to nurse well. We gave him formula at the hospital (lots of it I might add). He has reflux and a slight dairy sensitivity and I still haven't bought a boppy pillow. And yet the boy nurses like a champ! For the first three months he nursed every two hours on the DOT. Now we're doing every three, four and sometimes five and let me tell you I am happy to get a little bit of a breather every now and again.
What I'm saying is it's not you and it's probably not him or her either. It's just fate, timing and I don't know but perhaps a dash of magic?? My two babies have proven to me that sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn't and it's perfectly fine either way. For all the flack that formula feeding gets I'll tell you one thing - Birdie is by far the healthiest member of our family. I can literally count on one hand the number of times she's been sick. We also like to think that she's pretty bright and all around awesome, but as you know with things of that nature parents can be slightly biased. As they say - she turned out ok. I just want to remind you to enjoy your baby - whether you are breast or bottle feeding because that's the best thing about babies: they are the LEAST judgmental people on earth and love you to the ends of the earth no matter what, shouldn't we love ourselves at least to one tenth of that degree??
I also want to be clear that it hasn't been perfect, even with Teddy. There was a lot of cluster feeding going on those first few months and I legitimately thought it might kill me. There were a few times where he refused to nurse at all for almost an entire day and I thought that this was the end. There were several horrifying engorgement episodes and just plain feeling exhausted. And having the experience of giving up before, there were many moments where I wondered if I should. So for those of you finding yourself in the same boat and trying to get through those doubts and worries here are just a few things that I found extremely helpful:
- get yourself a breastfeeding buddy: for me that person was my mum. My mum had your average breastfeeding experience with both my brother and myself - it wasn't terrible but it wasn't magical either. This proved helpful as she wasn't militant about breastfeeding with me but would gently help keep me on course. On the days when I would call her completely frazzled she would calmly tell me to wait it out, three days max, and then we would reassess and every time by the third day things would be just fine again. She never pressured me and instead was a steady support, always there to tell me it's going to be ok and I'm doing great regardless.
- resist the urge to watch the clock, use an app or time the feedings. This is not for everyone but I found that with Teddy truly unplugging during his feedings and enjoying the moment even if it seemed shorter, longer or different. Looking back I feel that I drove myself bonkers with apps, timers and just worrying that she wasn't nursing long enough or in the correct sequence. It became a horribly stressful experience and just progressively got worse. I've had several pediatricians tell me "Is he happy? Is he peeing enough? Good. You're doing great." I've found it to be so much less stressful and enjoyable this way.
- invest in good nursing bras, tanks and tops. I didn't do this with Birdie and realize now just how silly this was. As if feeding wasn't stressful enough I added uncomfortable clothing to the mix. I'm convinced that having a comfortable nursing-friendly outfit makes the job infinitely easier and more pleasant for all involved. And yes, this is another way of saying I live in sweatpants and nursing tanks six days out of the week. Ok, fine, seven.
- know when to take a break. When Teddy would cluster feed for an entire 24 hour period I would often pump enough for one or two feeds and just seclude myself and rest. I think those periods of recharge were part of the reason I could keep going. Nursing can be exhausting regardless so be sensitive to when you feel like you're hitting your breaking point and give yourself some grace.
- don't be shy about giving them formula at the hospital. Take a deep breath. I know, I know. I've read it too but hear me out. Both with Birdie and Teddy the nurses cheerfully told me that my three drops of colostrum a day were MORE than enough for my baby. They used marbles to tell me about the size of their tummies, patted me on my head and waltzed out of the room just as my babies would start to scream from... hunger. Both of my babies would scream until they were purple and until I wanted to shove those little marbles where the sun... You get what I'm saying here. If the colostrum was enough then why as soon as we would feed Teddy half a bottle of formula he would pass out and finally go to sleep?? And he would down three to four ounces easily! Per feeding!! Putting him two my breast every hour or two hours only to have him scream and thrash frantically was not going to improve the experience for either one of us. Instead I would allow him to get full with the formula and top him off with the colostrum. It made things so much more pleasant and satisfying for us all. And by the time my milk came in on the fourth day he refused the formula completely and we transitioned into nursing full-time seamlessly. When I shared this with my mum she said "Well some people's babies won't nurse after taking the bottle or after trying formula." I'm sure that is true for some people so I am not a pediatrician or lactation expert or telling all of you to go do this immediately. I am simply saying that this was my experience with two kids and for me - doing this made things easier. Period.

birdie: after years of spending most of my days with mute creatures (my daughter and dog) I had the most wonderful moment this week when I realized that I now have a friend with me during the day. Birdie and I have conversations, I can ask her to do things, she'll tell me stories or what she wants for lunch and it has made such a difference! It has made me feel infinitely less lonely and bonded me even closer to my sweet girl. I couldn't feel more grateful!
teddy: our sweet boy has been teething bad this week. It's been getting progressively worse and finally last night we decided to give him some baby Tylenol and he slept well for the first time all week. Praying he gets some relief soon!

It has now been over six months that we have been in this house and I think we can finally call it a "home." The smells, sights and sounds are familiar now and there's a palpable feeling of "we're home" anytime that we return to it after being away. It's not a perfect home (my heart still dreams of a gleaming white kitchen) but it serves us so very well during this season of our life and for that I am very grateful.
Without a doubt our very favorite room in the entire house is the playroom. I remember when we viewed this home for the first time last June and when I saw all the gorgeous light that poured into the room I knew right then and there that this would be the room where our children played. And every day when I come down the stairs and round the corner and hear Birdie singing to herself or Teddy's little grunts it makes my heart sing! It's the warmest and brightest room in the house and in six short months it has given us so many wonderful memories - dance parties and reading time the teepee and cuddles and laughs.
I took these photos a few weeks ago and we have since added a little table and chairs for Birdie since she loves to color and draw. It just took a little bit of rearranging and we were still able to keep the area in the middle mostly clear of any toys. She has fallen so in love with that little corner that she now demands to do absolutely everything there - eating, coloring, reading... you name it!

Sources: teepee, rug, pouf, kitchen, cow wheely, barn, chandelier (we have the small version of this), baskets, stuffed globe, stuffed toys, moose print, blocks, book caddy. If there's anything I missed that you would like to know about just let me know!

I couldn't help but share this one too, it's just so good. This boy LOVES his big sister and watching her do just about anything!

I recently read this article by Ann Bauer on truth-telling in the writing business and it reminded me of something that's been on my mind for awhile now. It reminded me of a time not too long ago when I think the last remaining shreds of my childhood idealism and fantasy were burned forever, in a good way. Just go along with me for a little bit and I will explain.
You see just like most kids of our generation, I was raised to believe that "the sky is the limit!" or "reach for the stars" or "there's no limit to what you can accomplish." These are lovely sentiments, especially for a ten year old child. These mantras are great at helping you blossom as an adolescent and channel your inner strengths and to believe in your dreams. However, I believe that after a certain point as an adult they can actually begin to be detrimental. Have you ever heard the saying "stop banging on a wall hoping it will turn into a door?" I think we do that all too often under the guise of "never giving up on our dreams." But in an effort to prevent a complete erosion of our self-esteem we need to look at our dreams a little more realistically and be comfortable and brave enough to augment them if necessary.
You don't want to have to tell a child that the elementary, middle and high schools they are going to or will go to will to some degree determine what college they can get into. You don't want to have to tell them that what state or city they come from will also dictate what they can achieve. You don't want to tell a child that how much money you have may determine things like schools, higher education and career decisions. Because that is not the time, a person's childhood is a special, magical thing and it is to be treated with reverence and care. But as an adult I think it's actually freeing to help your child (or yourself) understand that due to a myriad of reasons there may be a certain "ceiling" to what you can achieve in a given field or that what you "dreamed" of doing may need to be changed and altered.
And I'm going to say something here that may not be very "inspirational" but it's a realization that has helped me in a profound way. It's frustrating to hear successful people answer the question of "how did you get to where you are" by saying "hard work, lots and lots of hard work." Hard work is part of the equation, part of anyone's equation for that matter, but it's certainly not the whole story. Number one, this comment instantly presupposes that anyone who hasn't achieved said level of success is simply not working hard enough. This is preposterous - everyone is working hard!! Here's why this lie works so well - because it gives all the credit to the person making the comment, denigrates everyone around them and then on top of it leaves the less successful people confused because they know they work very hard but just aren't achieving the kind of success that they dream of. So they go home determined to "work harder" and they will, most likely with only moderate improvements at best. Why? Because "hard work" is not the single most determining factor of success. To believe that is to pretend that we live in some fairy land where 99% of people are just lazy, un-successful people and that the 1% of successful people are the only ones working hard.
And I can tell you from personal experience that this is ridiculous. My mum worked herself to death as a housekeeper for many years when we moved to America. My mum worked until 2 am almost every day at McDonalds until she almost ruined her health. My mum worked incredibly hard at an accounting department of a school, so hard in fact that she got promoted and promoted until she eventually landed the wonderful job she has now. But to pretend like all my mum has to do is "work really hard" and she will become the next Sheryl Sandberg is just plain ludicrous. Because my mum does and will continue to work very hard but due to a million different pieces of the puzzle of her life including but not limited to the fact that she did not grow up in this country and did not receive higher education here, there is a ceiling. Plain and simple.
Because success is a combination of a million different things - from your upbringing, to schools, to financial status, to your personality and yes, sometimes, even your choice of faith. It's someone giving you a break, it's a connection, it's a savant level of genius or talent, it's a lot of "right place, right time" and probably just as much hard work as the rest of the world puts in on a daily basis. Pretending like this isn't the case hurts all of us. I believe that there is something very brave about crafting achievable, realistic dreams because when you make them come true the experience becomes empowering and propels you forward as opposed to continually striving for something that never comes to fruition and leaving you feeling less than and stagnates you. When you reach for something that isn't yours you eventually become bitter and hopeless, feeling as if there must be something wrong with YOU. In fact the only thing that's wrong is that it is not FOR you.
I've actually always admired Emily Schuman of Cupcakes and Cashmere for always being forthright about her success. In particular, she explains her journey in detail in this interview with The Everygirl. Emily has done a wonderful job of showing exactly how her certain kind of success worked and although there is no doubt that she has worked and continues to work very hard one can easily see that there were a lot of important links in the chain that weren't in her control but being the intelligent woman that she is she took each little break and opportunity and ran with it. And we all need these "breaks," these opportunities but not everyone gets them and what I'm suggesting here is that it's not your fault - it's just luck, or lack thereof.
I get so tired of seeing all these "work hard" and "don't give up" posters all over pinterest and instagram. I feel so sad for the hundreds of people that feel imprisoned in their "dreams," telling themselves every year that "this will be the year" or that they will "work harder." I think it's not about how much or how hard you work (though that is important) but it's about finding exactly what you need to work ON and unfortunately the answer to that often takes years and many misses. What I'm saying here (more to myself than anyone else) is that it's ok to sometimes release yourself from a "dream" that you feel just isn't yours, isn't happening or doesn't feel right. Trust me, it's not because you're not working hard enough because sweetheart - I know you are, you are working your little bum off and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Let it go, give it to someone else and try your hand at something else because trust me, when it's yours you don't need to kill yourself to get it right. I like to think that when you finally get it right the pieces just fall into place. And hard work is part of life for everyone from ceo's to stay at home mums. Lack of success does not mean lack of hard work. In my humble opinion anyway...