Milk: One of My Greatest Accomplishments

This is a picture of 116 breastmilk bottles. (They are used to hook up to breast pumps to collect milk.) I took the picture when I was preparing to move and was packing away some baby feeding supplies.

My baby is almost 2 years old, and I can hardly believe it. As I approach the second anniversary of her birth, I also approach the one-year anniversary of completing one of my biggest accomplishments. I pumped breastmilk for one year. Lots of women nurse, or pump milk, for their babies, and lots of women do it for a year or longer. Even now, I sometimes look back and think, "Why did I think that was such a big accomplishment?" But it was a huge accomplishment for me. At the time I finished it, I remember being so happy and relieved and proud. I remember thinking that how I felt was comparable to how I felt when I graduated college.

While I was pregnant with my first daughter, I had a goal: breastfeed for at least one year. However, breastfeeding was very challenging for both of us. By the time she was four months old, she refused it all together. With my second daughter, I had the same goal. This time I was aware that I'd have to be flexible, in case she, or I, had a tough time breastfeeding, too. But the goal was still there, because it was the ideal.

I was so happy when my baby started breastfeeding within an hour of her birth. She latched right on and seemed to have no problem with it. I was still afraid that I would struggle and feel tied down with breastfeeding, but I was hopeful that this time would be better because the baby seemed to have an easier grasp of the concept. So for the next day and a half, I kept breastfeeding, and she ate with minimal guidance. And then we noticed something that was concerning, and she ended up being sent to another hospital for further testing. She was admitted to the NICU, where they gave me some supplies and instructed me to pump and store my breastmilk. Because of the testing, she couldn't take milk for a few days, and I needed to keep up pumping so I wouldn't lose my supply. By the time the initial testing was completed (which turned out normal), a different serious lifelong medical condition was discovered, and she remained in the NICU for three weeks. At first, doctors told me that because of her medical condition, she may not be able to tolerate breastmilk very well. So they started her on formula. I continued pumping with the hopes that she could get to a point where she could start taking it.

Each day, her blood work showed abnormal levels. There were certain levels that were much higher than normal. With each passing day, her feedings increased, and so did those levels. The doctors said they hoped her levels would eventually stabilize as her body got more adjusted to being outside the womb. But I was scared. One day I did the math, and figured out that if her levels kept going up at the rate they were, her health would be in critical condition within a week. This whole time, I continued pumping milk (every three hours around the clock) and praying that my milk would be the "magic" solution her body needed to improve. I still didn't know if her body would tolerate it, but one afternoon, I asked one of her doctors if she could just try the breastmilk. The doctor immediately got on the phone with her other doctor, and together they decided that she could try my milk. The next morning's blood work didn't show improvement, but the next day, after a full day of my baby consuming only breastmilk, her levels started dropping. They continued dropping until they were much closer to normal. Perhaps it was, at least in part, because her body was adjusting more to life outside the womb, but to me, that was just too coincidental. My milk really seemed to be the "magic" solution she needed. I continued pumping. By the time she left the hospital, she was on breastmilk with a bit of special formula mixed in to help her gain weight. Because she needed that extra formula mixed in, and because there was a possibility I would need to add special medication in the milk later on, I decided to continue pumping milk (instead of having her nurse directly). Within a couple months, there were four things I had to add to the milk. Her levels improved some more.

While she was in the hospital, I made a goal to pump milk for my baby for at least one year. And I did it. I started off pumping for 15 minutes, 7-8 times a day, and I eventually was able to pump for 30 minutes, 4 times a day. After each pumping, I had to wash the 8 pieces of pumping equipment. Each day we (my husband and/or I) emptied 8-10 breastmilk bottles (a day's worth of milk) into a container with the other four things she needed. We washed those 8-10 bottles and lids each day. The whole process of pumping was time-consuming. Everything took careful planning. There were times we wanted to just take off and go somewhere, but first we had to wait half an hour while I pumped. If I was going to be out during a pumping time, or longer than a few hours, I had to bring a portable pump, bottles, and a cooler, and figure out where and when I was going to pump. I also brought a cooler with prepared bottles for my baby wherever I went. She wouldn't drink cold milk, so I always tried to find some hot water to warm the bottle up in.

I had a lot of milk available, as I produced a lot of it, and there were days at the beginning when I pumped, despite her taking very little or no milk at all. When my baby was in the NICU, literally half of my freezer was filled with milk, plus the hospital had milk in their freezer. It's hard to believe, but there was a time when all 116 bottles pictured above were being used. And I am so grateful, because there were times later on when I struggled with my milk supply. I was able to feed my baby the milk I had pumped earlier.

This may seem self-applauding, and well, it is. People announce their music, sports, academic, and professional accomplishments. They have graduation parties and promotion celebrations. This is no different. This was a very hard thing that I worked at every day for a year of my life. I never would have guessed that "Pumped Breastmilk for One Year" would be on my list of great life accomplishments, but it is. Like I said, I know lots of women provide breastmilk for their baby, and many do it for a year or longer. It is challenging whether you nurse or pump. I think all women who accomplish this should get a party. A Post-Breastfeeding Shower. The gifts could consist of new bras, shirts, and purses (to replace the worn-out diaper bag). Perhaps a gift card for a date night when the mother can feel free and be out of the house for more than a couple hours at a time. The food can include salad, spicy snacks, chocolate, and anything else the nursing mother may have had to avoid. I'm not suggesting that everyone should shower me with gifts. (I'm just happy that my baby is doing so well, and I like to think at least part of it is because of all the breastmilk she had.) I'm just saying, Post-Breastfeeding Showers should totally be a thing. There are so many hard, sad things in life. We could use more celebrations. :)

A Different Perspective of Sex

Turn on the radio or TV. Leave your house and go to the store. You'll see that this world we live in is almost saturated with sex. It is seen almost everywhere you look, be it subtle or obvious. It is one of the reasons it's scary to raise children in this world. It's an uncomfortable topic for me, and I don't really like talking about it because sex is personal and sacred, and it is often misused and abused. But I had an experience a while ago that put things into perspective for me, and I want to share that.

I believe that sex is sacred and should be saved for marriage. I believe that the purpose of sex is for the benefit of the relationship of the married couple, and for having children. This is a very different belief from what is considered "normal". When you look around you, you may find that sex is displayed as being only for fun, pleasure, and excitement; something light-hearted; something you can throw around and pass from one person to another. Even with my strong beliefs, it is sometimes hard to remember that sex is sacred and serious when I am confronted with this other view so much.

When my first child was born, she was in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) for one week. Nearly two years ago, my younger daughter made her entrance into this world and spent three weeks in the NICU. It was a large one, with space available for nearly 100 babies. While she was receiving care there, my husband and I spoke with many doctors, nurses, and specialists. One day, one of the doctors was telling us how she was doing, and the doctor said something like, "One thing that makes me hopeful is that she has you guys. She has a good support system." At the time, this was of little comfort to me, as I thought that that was just something they told everyone to try to make them feel better. But I was wrong. That isn't something they could tell everyone. When you're in the NICU, you hear a lot. The babies are situated quite close together to ensure a close eye is being kept on all of them. Also, the waiting room outside of the NICU was small. It was easy to hear of others' situations. I heard about babies of single parents. One new mother was telling someone that her baby's father was unaware of the baby's existence, and that she did not want him to know. It was a bad situation. I have respect for single parents. I know they love their children and they work really hard. I know there are a lot of messy situations you can't foresee. On occasion, harsh realities make it so that a child is better off away from his or her biological mother, father, or both. But that doesn't change the fact that all children deserve to have a mom and a dad, and a good support system.

I remember thinking about this in the NICU one day, when it hit me: This place was a huge deal. There were so many doctors and nurses and hospital workers working around the clock, every single day of the year. There is an unthinkable amount of energy, money, resources, supplies, work, knowledge, prayers, tears, and hope, all put forth in an effort to help, heal, and sustain the lives of our sweet babies. And how did these babies come to be? *Sex. Sex isn't usually something you're thinking about when you visit your sick baby in the midst of many other sick babies. But sex is what made those babies happen. What hit me was how very serious the concept of sex was in that moment (and should always be), and how one's view of sex is so far from the world's view of sex when you have a baby. When a man and a woman have sex, it should be understood that a baby could come from it. Bringing a child into this world, and raising that child, is very serious. Some babies may come to this world healthier than others, but no person is uncomplicated and easy to raise. We are all complex. Every person needs the best support system possible. When people have a casual attitude about sex, and a baby comes from that sex, it's less likely that that baby is going to have as good of a support system as he or she needs and deserves. I know a lot of people would say they aren't going to conceive a baby because of birth control, infertility, or other reasons. But the fact that sex can bring another human being into the world shows how serious and powerful it is, and that you should treat it with care, whether it produces a baby or not.

Whenever I feel bombarded by flippant attitudes about sex, I try to remember how I felt that day in the NICU. I try to think about all the babies. And the people in this world. And I remember that even if people don't treat it how they should, sex is sacred.**


*Some children are brought to this world via artificial insemination, which isn't typically considered sex, but should also be treated with careful consideration of both parents and child. 
**Sacred usually refers to a religious, divine meaning, but it also signifies reverence and respect in general. 

We Need Each Other: The Plastic Bag Analogy

My day-to-day life is full of mundane tasks. The tasks are usually quite boring, but sometimes I receive special insight as I am carrying out these responsibilities.

Some time ago, I was cleaning out the fridge. This is one of my least-favorite chores, and something I do not consider inspiring. Yet, this particular time was different.

When I clean out the fridge, there is usually at least a little bit of rotten food to be disposed of. I put the bad food in plastic grocery bags, which I tie up before I put it in the garbage can. Many of the grocery bags have small holes at the bottom, so I double up the bags so that the rotten food inside does not leak. If I don't see any holes in the bag, I double it up anyway. Doubling the bags also provides extra protection in case something tears or pokes the bag. There may also be unseen holes in the inner bag, and even if there aren't any, the bag alone may not be strong enough to hold its load without breaking. Even if the outer bag has holes, it can help support the inner bag.

(This is a much more detailed description of my cleaning-out-the-fridge technique than I ever thought I'd give. But the description is necessary to make sense of the insight I gained from it.)

And now the inspiration: I suddenly realized that people are like these plastic grocery bags. Sound weird? I know. But hear me out.

We all have burdens we carry (much like the plastic grocery bags). Burdens that are undesirable. Depression, pain, heartache, sickness, loss, betrayal, frustration, fear, loneliness, and hopelessness are all burdens that feel downright awful. They're burdens that we all have or will have at some point. Many people have visible holes, or weaknesses. Others appear to be strong and have their lives all together, but are actually stretched thin and feeling very weak and vulnerable inside.

It is important to provide help and support to one another. Be there for others, whether it appears they need help or not. Help them carry their burdens so they don't break (body and/or spirit). If we are always supporting each other, we are stronger when something tears or pokes us, threatening to break us. Don't be afraid to ask for help when your burden seems so heavy, and don't be afraid to jump in and help another. Even a person with a lot of weaknesses can support and strengthen another. Two people, each with their own inevitable weaknesses, together can carry more than two people individually.