Breast is best and you're the worst

Breast is best. Why not? It’s kitschy, it rhymes, and it states a well known scientific fact. I can’t speak for all mom’s but I can speak for myself when I say that I absolutely hate this saying to the very core of my being. If I had been given a dollar for every time that stupid phrase was uttered to me as if it were some sort of miracle solution to my problems, then I’d have Hayes’ first year of college tuition paid for already. Had I actually been paid then I likely would have welcomed the little ditty verses my knee jerk reaction of grinding my teeth and pretending to thank whoever offered up the quip.

I personally believe that as moms we all strive to give our kids the best in life. I’ve only been a mom for a short time but I can’t even begin to describe some of the lengths I’ve gone to already to make sure my baby is getting the very best and I know that I’m not alone in this endeavor.

How many moms before me have sat and researched car seat brands and studied any recalls for hours at a time? How many moms have overpaid for a top of the line baby swing because reviews claimed it was the best one out there? How many moms have taught themselves using youtube videos and pinterest pins how to prepare and store baby food that packed full of nutrients? The very essence of motherhood is going above and beyond measures we ever thought possible and digging down deep within ourselves so that we might give our tiny little loves everything that life has to offer.

I have spoken very candidly about my travails with breastfeeding. I know in my heart of hearts that I fought relentlessly to breastfeed my sweet baby boy. For me to fail at it, this little saying “breast is best” is a reminder that I haven’t done the very best for my child. I have failed him and doomed him for life with the silver medal of infant nourishments. Because of my weakness and my inability to push through the pain he is the one that will suffer the consequences…. no wonder some mom’s fall so quickly into postpartum depression.

Oblivious to all the self loathing that is already taking place, well meaning moms love to share facts and statistics about breastfed babies which is great but it somehow gives me the impression that deep down they themselves believe that I just wasn’t trying hard enough. I can only gather from their persistence that they picture me being just too distracted or busy to devote the kind of time it takes to breastfeed my baby. Perhaps they think that by sharing this tidbit of information about my baby’s brain development or my own weight loss will be just the ticket that sends me over the edge and motivates me to try harder to breastfeed. I mean you know because that whole wanting to give my baby the very best thing in the whole world wasn’t motivation enough.

In all sincerity I applaud any mom that has struggled with breastfeeding as much as I did and were still able to carry on nursing in spite of the torture. Some moms don’t experience that kind of pain at all and I am envious of that. I envy the moms that don’t get blisters on their nipples and the ones that don’t bleed. But I resent anyone who offers up that thoughtless blanket statement, “breast is best,” to me because they don’t know how disciplined I am and how strong willed I can be. Simply put, they don’t know me. If they knew anything about me and they truly understood how much love I have for my sweet boy, then instead of giving me unsolicited advice and repeating information that I’m all too aware of, they would pat me on the back and congratulate me for hanging in there as long as I did.

My Hayes baby is doing marvelously. He is the least picky eater, eats generously and rarely spits up. So he’s not strictly breastfed, so what? He’s as healthy as can be and growing like a weed. That’s all any mom can really ask for.