Breastfeeding and pools

All right, mommas. I bring it up because it's happened at a pool I was guarding once and my lil' sister still guards, and had it happen today to her. You want to breastfeed in public? Fine. You want to breastfeed in a pool? Get outta town.
I want to point out something that I don't believe the Crusader Moms (any mom who finds a cause, no matter how absurd, and starts protests, wages war and generally causes a ruckus) think about: It is unsanitary for YOUR CHILD to nurse in a pool. Do you know what's in a pool, besides chlorine? Urine. Fecal material. Skin cells. Food particles from the snack you let your older kids have 30 minutes before swimming. If it's an outdoor pool: bugs, grass, sunscreen residue, sweat. There's a good chance another kid might've puked a little of his lunch up and not told anyone. Most people don't shower before getting in, especially those old men who just sat in the sauna for 20 minutes and need to cool off.
Do you really want the privilege of nursing your child in that?
Chlorine makes water safe to SWIM in. It does not make it an appropriate place to feed a child whose immune system is not as strong as yours. And believe me when I say, the pristine pools you see the Olympians swimming in is not your local public or neighborhood private pool.
Yes, mothers have the right to breastfeed where they want in Colorado. That doesn't make it right to breastfeed in a pool!
I won't even bring up the bodily fluid argument because it's a moot point, there are all sorts of nasty bodily fluids floating in that water. If you care about your infant, you will take the time to get out of the pool, wrap him/her in a nice fluffy towel and breastfeed on the sidelines. Oh, and it's probably not a bad idea to give the older kids a break, too, because children get tired in the water and it's better to be safe than sorry with your children!
Clearly, this debacle has become the vocal minority overruling the quiet majority—a majority of women don't feel the need breastfeed while in the pool, but that Crusader Mom and her group of "Human Rights" mommy minions have blown this whole thing out of proportion.
Crusader Mom seems to not care that others may be offended by her actions, and that attitude is harmful and blinding. All she sees are her "rights" while forgetting the those around her have rights, too. And typically she vents her opinions on a hapless lifeguard who only wanted to enforce the rules so that everyone at the pool is comfortable, safe and happy. (Side note: Stop taking out your issues on lifeguards. It's not nice.)
If you search for "breastfeeding in public pools" you find a lot of stories, and most of them end with pool management acquiescing to Crusader Mom. You'll also find a lot of forums where the question is posed: "Should it be allowed or not?" and the answers are ignorant "sure, why not?" and "I don't see why you shouldn't."
If you worry at all about your children being in a clean environment, then you would not add to the mess of a pool. You would breastfeed your child out of the pool for the sanitary consideration of everyone (I've only ever seen Mexican hotel pools allow food and drink in the pool so don't even throw that argument at me!) and most importantly, for the well-being of your very own loveable, messy baby! You would also take your kids home and make them shower in good clean water with soap, because even though the possibility of contracting illness from a chlorinated pool is slim, that stuff I mentioned earlier is on their skin, in their ears, hair, nose, etc. and it is pretty nasty when you think about it!
One closing thought: Swimmers do their very best to avoid inhaling/drinking the water they swim in, for more than just appropriate breathing reasons—they're in it enough to know that it can be nasty. So why put your baby in the position to consume that bacteria-filled water at the same time as their nutritious breast milk?!

Disclaimer: I support breastfeeding wholeheartedly. I support a woman's right to breastfeed in public. I do not believe that right extends itself into physically breastfeeding a child in a pool. These are my opinions, and frankly, if you don't share them, I'm always open to a little thoughtful discourse so comment below!

Most of all, let your kids swim! Water is one of the best things in the world for them (just scrub them after). :)

A follow-up to breastfeeding

My baby girl is almost 10 months old, and had things gone to my plan, I would've likely still been breastfeeding her. But if you read my little saga, you know that things didn't work out and she is formula fed.
What's funny is that just yesterday someone stated that I must breastfeed. I'm guessing she thought this because M is such a healthy (read: chunky) baby. I smiled to myself, thinking, "I am so glad I no longer have guilt over this." I told her no, M was formula fed, without feeling the need to offer any further explanation.
She did inquire why, however, so I told her it simply didn't work for me, that I didn't lactate. I did have a little twinge along the lines of I-wish-I-could've-done-it, but the guilt, disappointment and shame I've felt previously is not there anymore.
It helps to put your feelings into sentences—it's why there are so many bloggers and why Facebook causes so many problems for people (haha)—but blogging about my experience has definitely helped me to heal a little bit more. So if anything I write resonates with you, a reader, please tell me about it! I'd love to hear your experiences or feedback.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety. Psalms 18:2 (NIV)

Breastfeeding: My experience, part 3

{Haven't read parts 1 or 2? Scroll down!}
Mental exhaustion notwithstanding, I continued to do everything I could to breastfeed.
The lactation diet list I received contained a lot of things that are generally great nutrition, but unfortunately things that were not part of my regular grocery list. In between actually feeding M, pumping and trying to rest, I was grocery shopping for things like coconut milk, fish that I would eat (hard to find when you don't like fish), fennel, avocado, then trying to figure out how to cook it.
I went to Vitamin Cottage to buy the supplement Fenugreek, which is thought to help increase lactation. I was willing to try it all, except for drugs, because I am not a pill-popper. I rarely take ibuprofen or aspirin, I had no interest in trying to trick my body using chemicals into lactating.
Those first two weeks of M's life were a repeated ritual. Remember the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing, over and over, expecting different results?
That was how I felt as I drip/breast fed M, followed by pumping, and got literally only a few drops of milk from the left breast and maybe 10 mL, sometimes 15, from the right.
My mother tried to help, suggesting I eat high-fat foods and encouraged me to pump less, thinking that I was straining my body. And I did for a few days, because I was getting so tired of the process.
I was coming to the conclusion that this might not work, and I hated the very idea. It made me feel like a failure, that I couldn't give my baby what she needed.
This idea that I was failing, as I am able to see rationally now, was developed by a society that I feel is putting extreme pressure on mothers to breastfeed. I had spent nine months building up to breastfeeding, agreeing and reading all of the literature and bloggers that sings the praises of breast milk.
Historically, mothers who couldn't (or wouldn't) breastfeed employed wet nurses, or gave their babies goat's milk or some other animal milk. Formula was developed in the 19th century, and it's suggested that nearly half of all babies in the U.S. were fed formula during the middle part of the 20th century. In the '70s, the scale began to tip back in favor of breastfeeding.
I don't have statistics on how many babies are breastfed versus formula fed now, but I do know that the "peer pressure" I felt to breastfeed my baby was causing me more mental anguish then was justified.
I had all of the help, literature, foods, supplements, pumps and advice I could possibly have, and it DID NOT WORK.
I'm capitalizing that to emphasize the fact that I was at the hospital numerous times, consulting the very people who specialize in breastfeeding; I had all of the support and help any mother could possibly need. My husband supported me—something I was extremely thankful for.
When M was one month old, I couldn't do it anymore. She became a purely formula fed baby, and I felt defeated.
When people would ask if she was breastfed, I felt ashamed. I felt obligated to explain my situation, to justify the fact that I was giving her formula. To tell them that statistics suggest that fewer than five percent of women don't lactate, and that I was one of them.
It was painful. I did not have any type of post-partum depression, but I did experience something akin to depression every time the topic came up.
The thing is, M is a happy, extremely healthy baby. If she were given stickers at her doctor appointments, she would be given gold stars every time. She didn't get diaper rashes, as breastfeeding proponents claim formula babies suffer from. She didn't fail to bond with me or the people around her, because we held her and loved her and smothered her with affection while feeding and while not feeding.
Once she hit her six month mark in January, I began to feel angry. Angry that I had ever felt like a failure, just because the world says breastfeeding is best. Don't misunderstand me—I support every mother who makes the decision to breastfeed. However, I support every mother who chooses to formula feed as well, because sometimes, it does not work out.
Today's formula is sanitary and is as close to breast milk as scientifically possible. Yes, it very well might be missing things that are contained in breast milk, but it has a lot of added things that are beneficial to infants (think DHA).
And I am here to tell you that formula is not a bad choice. It was the best one I could've made for my daughter and our circumstance. Fifteen milliliters of breast milk pumped from one breast was not enough to grow an infant. M would've starved. I thank God that I had something safe and available to give her.
So, fellow mothers, if you have a baby or are waiting on a baby, please know that you are not wrong to use formula. It is not something to be looked down on, or something to judge another woman on.
Only a mother can make the right decision for her baby. Don't let the world tell you which to choose! And most importantly, don't let the world influence your self worth—God loves you, and I'm pretty sure He doesn't care if you breastfeed or formula feed, as long as you love and care for that little gift with your whole heart.

Breastfeeding: My experience, part 2

{Haven't read Part 1? Scroll down!}
Normally, I'm a suck-it-up-and-deal-with-it type of person. Post partum, I was a gushy I-will-cry-about-everything mess. Add in the stress of trying to figure out how to get my body lactating more, and you have a super teary combo.
I consulted the lactation specialist at Parker Adventist after the doctor advised me to give M formula. She told me to get a hospital-grade breast pump so that my body would have enough stimulation to produce breast milk, since M would not be suckling as much. She gave me two places where you could rent a pump, one being a Walgreens. If I had thought I was stressed out already, it gets worse.
I called the Walgreens and spoke to someone about renting a pump. I asked if I could have one put on hold for me, and was informed that was not necessary and to come in, they had them available.
Matt and I made the trip from the hospital to the Walgreens, and when I asked for a pump, I was informed that they no longer had any available and why didn't I have one put on hold?
The devil himself could've stood before me and said that and I would have ripped him to shreds.
To keep from having a complete breakdown immediately, I walked away from the pharmacy counter to try breathing exercises. The tears were already coming, I couldn't control that at all. But I was choking on a vicious urge to strangle the pharmacy tech and Matt had disappeared to the restroom while I went to the pharmacy, so I was momentarily on my own.
The poor girl who stopped and asked if she could help me didn't deserve what she got. I won't lie—I was a wretched, hormonal you-know-what and she got to hear about it all. I started out yelling and was a breathless, sobbing wreck by the time I stopped. Bless her heart, she offered to call other Walgreens to perhaps locate another one that rented pumps and really took my horrid behavior quite in stride. Because my lactation specialist had already informed me that this particular store was the only one to rent pumps, I knew her search would be fruitless, but she tried.
During that time, Matt had returned, found out what happened and was trying to calm me down. Not an easy task, when you consider the mess I was at that point. And the worst thing was, stress itself is a major factor in let-down while breastfeeding—I was only making my situation worse.
{I should also mention that another Walgreens employee noticed my train wreck and came over to offer help while the first girl was making calls. It did not play in her favor to ask why I hadn't had a pump put on hold. Cue another emotional breakdown.}
We left Walgreens with a promise that a manager would call, and we went back to the hospital. My lactation specialist was an angel during this time, a calm, caring woman who managed to get the hospital's one pump to me despite unfavorable circumstances. Now I had a breast pump, a lactation diet, aids to encourage M to suckle, and the words "don't stress out" in my head.
Did you know that babies will stop trying to suckle as hard once they've experienced the ease of bottle feeding? "Don't stress out" was like telling a bird not to fly.
I had all of these things (finally) and now, my baby was beginning to develop a dislike for trying to suckle at the breast! One of the aids was what is best described as an IV drip so that M would receive enough milk to encourage her to suck harder at the nipple. You put the premixed (read: more expensive) formula in a special bottle that feeds a tube, hang it on your bra or whatever is available, then manipulate the baby into taking in your nipple and the tube into her mouth just right.
Now, take your 3 a.m. feeding, add in additional aids to encourage baby (which means formula) and getting the little tube in her mouth, then finishing with pumping (in the middle of the night!) and I was not only stressed, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.