This mum is coming out fighting in the breast-bottle battle. And when we say fighting, we mean throwing herself on the couch and saying, ‘meh!’
Is anyone else as tired of all the hoopla about breastfeeding as I am?
The final straw was when I recently walked past a café window bearing a sticker stating it was a ‘Breastfeeding Friendly’ venue. Oh, puh-lease, I thought, do we really need a sticker?
Geez, it bugged me. And then everything about modern society’s obsession with ramming the ‘breast is best’ message came to the surface; from my first in-hospital experience with a crazy lactation consultant, to reading online forums where women swing between self-righteousness or desperation regarding breastfeeding. It seems there’s no middle ground about the act.
Until now. I AM THE MIDDLE GROUND.
This is how I feel about breastfeeding:
Great to do it if you can and want to, but if you can’t or don’t – do not stress. Just be thankful we live in a First World country with access to safe formula and sterilising solutions.
As for me, I breastfed both daughters – Betty for eight months, and Kitty for three months. But by the World Health Organisation’s recommendation, I failed. (Tell that to my healthy 99th-percentile-in-length-and-weight children!)
Both girls were supplemented with formula from around six weeks. Expressing was tedious. Being glued to the couch for the first couple of months even more so. I never had a set length of time that I wanted to breastfeed. Why not? Because that would have been about me, and not about what was working best for my baby and me. (However, I did know that if my child could ask for it or chew a steak, my milk bar would be closed for business. Full stop.)
Personally, I found bottle-feeding a welcome relief. Sue me.