The Post Breastfeeding Diet

Posted on February 29, 2012 6 Comments


I enjoyed the extra 500 or so calories that breastfeeding gave me. Really enjoyed. Alot.

It’s cruel, really. Not only am I no longer receiving my happy hormones but I have to eat less food as well? Just rotten.

I resent the fact that I actually have to think about what I’m eating now instead of being able to stuff my face at whim.

There are a couple of perks though. I am no longer a hungry, ravenous beast when I get back from the gym and because I am paying attention to what I’m eating, I’m not just inhaling, I’m actually enjoying it more.

But even so, once you add it up it’s not great. No happy hormones. No extra food. I get to experience the pain of my cycle again. I actually have to get out of bed to feed the squish ball in the middle of the night and I have to take five million things with me whenever I leave the house. Not enthused.

The only thing that’s making me think this isn’t the worst decision I ever made is the thought of three nights ALONE at the end of March.

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I Ache

Posted on February 27, 2012 11 Comments


I ache, from the weaning. Mostly at night. In more ways than one.

By the end of the week the weaning will be done and I look forward to that as much as I don’t. At least it will be finished then. I won’t have to think about it.

She bit me twice last night while feeding and not even that could make me feel grateful for weaning. That’s when you know you are in difficult territory.

She doesn’t seem to mind that much at least. And that is something. That is something to hold on to.

I didn’t even think about weaning Riley that much I just did it. I don’t think it’s the weaning that bothers me that much at all. Or it does. But more than that it represents all the time I will be spending away from her.

And it aches.

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10 Things People Say About Breastfeeding That They Really Shouldn’t

Posted on February 2, 2012 21 Comments

1. Breastfeeding in public is all about modesty
No it’s not. If it was about modesty people opposed to breastfeeding in public would be going up to every woman in a low cut top and telling her that she was offending them.

2. When they are old enough to ask for it they are too old.

Um. No. Arbitrary. Some kids speak before they are 1, others not until they are 3. A baby communicates their wants and needs with smiles and coos and crying. Why should those wants and needs be ignored when they can say a few words.

3. When they have teeth they are too old for it.

Some babies are born with teeth. Or get them really early. Some don’t get any until they are a year old. Again arbitrary and stupid.

4. Once they can eat solid food/drumstick they are too old for it.

Turns out that breastmilk contains things that food doesn’t. Plus it’s comforting. Yes, even more comforting than a drumstick.

5. When I have children I won’t do that.

You really can’t know what you will or won’t do.

6. It should be a private thing

The basic premise of house arrest is tempting but I think I’ll continue to live my life

7. Breastfeeding is just another way of oppressing women

Or not. Do what you want to do. But if anything being able to breastfeed is something that I am really proud of and that I really enjoyed.

8. There is no physiological need for breastmilk past a certain age. It’s just comfort.

I’m not sure about the truth of this statement but I really don’t get what the big deal is about comfort anyway. Children need alot of comfort. So do adults. I’m not suggesting that adults breastfeed but I don’t see the big issue with children continuing to breastfeed for comfort over physical needs.

9. If they are walking they are too old for it.

Again arbitrary. One thing has nothing to do with the other. It seems to me we are getting into a blatant fumbling around in the dark for any milestone indicative of age as a reason that we shouldn’t be breastfeeding.

10. Breastfeeding mothers should stop making formula feeding mothers feel guilty.

I’m allowed to be proud of breastfeeding and allowed to advocate the many benefits. I’m talking about me. Talking about my choices is not a judgement on anyone else’s choices. I’m not making anyone feel guilty.

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Weaning. It’s Complicated

Posted on January 24, 2012 23 Comments

I don’t really want to wean Piper.
Everything about breastfeeding her is easy. You know, except for the biting. I’m over that. That is one thing we could definitely put in the pro-weaning basket. And as I’m feeding her through the night or first thing in the morning the last thing I want to be doing is getting out of bed to make a bottle. I like my lazy.

But wean her I must. I have two trips coming up and one of them is 10 days. I don’t want her to be adjusting to having a bottle all of the time on top of my absence so I want her to be weaned before I go away.

As she gets older and I can see her taking steps away from her own babyness, I am more and more reluctant to take any of my own. She’s crab walking and I can tell in another couple of months she’ll be walking on her own. Which only makes me feel how finite and precious the time is and at night now I’m more likely to hold her while she sleeps rather than get her to sleep in the cot. Because it’s going to be over so quickly.

I have two little bruises on each arm where she pinches me while she’s feeding. And has done since she was really little. The minutiae of it all is what I will miss the most. The intimacy of it. It will be gone in a heartbeat. And it stings a little. That I will be weaning her for selfish reasons. My trips aren’t work trips or even really necessary. They are oodles of fun blogging conferences. And although I’m ok about taking that time for me, in terms of weaning it stings a little. Because if those things weren’t coming up I wouldn’t wean her.

And when I look into her big stormy eyes and think about it, well it really stings. The ending of it. That finite point in time where her body stops relying on my body to sustain her own. Logically, I know that it will be my body who is making up her bottles of formula and feeding her breakfast lunch and dinner. But that’s how it feels.

It was easier with Riley because by the time I weaned her she had zero preference and was very happy to have a bottle and be able to look around while she was having it. She never once protested weaning and it seemed like she didn’t even notice it. Piper, however has a very pronounced preference. And that stings too.

I try not to think about it too much. I don’t want to grieve for something that hasn’t even happened yet. But I’m on the clock now. And I can already feel the ache of it widening as the time passes.

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Who Is Scared of Mastitis?

Posted on November 14, 2011 26 Comments

That would be me. I’m terrified of mastitis. TERRIFIED.
I didn’t have it in the year I breastfed Riley, but because we had a rough start to breastfeeding, I know all about excruciating pain with breastfeeding and crying through every feed, dreading it. I imagine that’s what mastitis is like. And that’s not even taking into account the fever, the chills, the aches and pains.

So when I woke up with extreme tenderness and knots in my breast on Saturday morning it’s safe to say that I was extremely nervous. I have no idea  how it happened either. The only thing I can think of is that Piper has returned to sleeping better at night and so she’s been feeding less.

I am lucky that it showed up in her preferred breast. She has a strong preference going on. And although I try to feed equally from both, it would have been hard to encourage her to feed from the other breast when she’s not really hungry.

I had a hot shower in the morning and gave everything a good massage, but it was kind of hard to get to because it wasn’t near the surface. Awesome. I went for an 8.3k run. Not sure if that was genius or a mistake. The beginning part of that run was so not comfortable, but it calmed down by about half way through.

I consulted Dr. Twitter which is far superior to Dr. Google if you ask me. This caused me to be even more terrified of mastitis but I did get some good advice as well.

On Saturday night I was blessed with a little squishy bear who seemed intent on feeding the whole night through. I was extremely grateful. But I was also extremely tired. And by Sunday morning, I started to feel a little less tender, a little less sore and like everything was on the mend. But still, way tired.

I abandoned the gym workout. And gave myself a free pass to be lazy instead. I’m still terrified but at the moment terror is being dulled by exhaustion.

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When Breastfeeding is More Offensive Than The Slap

Posted on October 6, 2011 47 Comments

Twitter was abuzz with the new ABC series, “The Slap”, last night. I’ll confess I haven’t read the book. Actually, I don’t think I’ve read a book in three years. That is extremely disturbing in and of itself.
Sometimes Twitter is so witty, so nuanced and so sensitive to subtlety that it makes me feel stupid, and other times Twitter is so pedestrian, so clumsy, so heavy handed and so damn glib it makes me feel like slapping people upside the head. Last night was the latter. I think it’s the glibness that bothers me the most. I’ve heard/read people on twitter who were about to attend a training day on alzheimers joke about forgetting something. I might be brining too much personal stuff to the table, but it’s not funny, it’s not witty and it’s not amusing. I mean seriously? The death of a mind is funny to you?

And all of a sudden the main thing I saw in #theslap stream was that people were more creeped out by the breastfeeding of a 4 year old than that same child being struck across the face. How disappointing. I get that at 4, the extended breastfeeding goes outside most people’s comfort zones. But really? You’d rather watch a child being hit than see them breastfeed? And you know what bothers me the most about the whole thing? That if the child had been given a bottle there would have been a whole lot less commenting about it. All those ads about giving your children the milk of another species through dairy? All those ads about toddler and preschooler formula? They say one thing to me – that there is still nutritional benefit for some time from breast milk and young children’s attachment to things like bottles and dummies (or breastfeeding) prove that they still have emotional needs that are being met.

Extended breastfeeding is outside my personal comfort zone. I was ready to wean Riley at a year, and I was happy with that. But I don’t find extended breastfeeding creepy or weird and I certainly don’t find an act of violence more acceptable.

And just quietly I’m a little bit bored of the attachment parenting stereotype. The one where people confuse attachment parenting with permissive parenting or parenting that involves no boundary setting and no discipline. In fact it resembles non-parenting more than anything else. So, so bored.

Sometimes I despair of people.

Here endeth the rant.

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Priorities. I Has Them.

Posted on September 5, 2011 12 Comments

The last week has been all about figuring out what’s important. Most things take a back seat when Riley is sick and sensitive and in need of lots of cuddles. Most things take a back seat to a teething baby too. Like the gym. I would love to have spent more time at the gym over the last week, but sick kidlets means that I want to be sure that if they wake up distressed, I’m going to be there. Which means no gym. Plus I’ve been feeling a little under the weather myself and went to sleep at 8pm on Saturday night. Oh yes, I do feel old.
But I’ve also had to think about other things. I love going to events with other bloggers. And I was pretty excited to go to the Digital Parents Unplugged event. Until, reality got in the way just a bit. And I decided I couldn’t go. You know what I hated the most about breastfeeding with Riley when she was a baby – other than the adjustment period that will forever redefine pain? It was trying to get her to take a bottle. And I was so excited when Piper was born that I wouldn’t have to get her to take a bottle if she didn’t want to. I don’t know if she will take a bottle or not. I haven’t tried. I’m enjoying that I don’t have to try. But to go to certain things at night, in the city, she would have to take a bottle. And I don’t know if I’m cool with that yet. I don’t want to lose sight of what’s important. And I feel complicated about introducing formula and a bottle when I don’t have to. And until I don’t feel complicated about it, I’m not doing it.

It’s easy to take things for granted if you’re not paying attention. So sometimes I might miss out on things that I would love to go to. And last night as my little baby (who seems suddenly chubby but still so little) fell asleep having a feed and then nuzzled her warm cheek up against me I was more than cool with it.

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I am Unapologetic about Breastfeeding in Public

Posted on August 29, 2011 27 Comments

I fed my baby today. In public. Without covering up. This was not earth shattering for me. But I was surprised and a little disheartened at the looks I received today, and that the six or so people who were sitting in chairs in the shopping centre chose to move rather than stay sitting near the woman feeding her baby.
I suppose they wanted me to use the parents room. Sometimes I do. But not at this particular shopping centre because it smells vile and I go in there to change nappies and even that’s a stretch.

When people get offended by breastfeeding in public it makes me sad. It’s such a beautiful thing. I’m also highly suspicious of anyone who suggests its a modesty issue. Given that anyone wearing even slightly revealing clothes shows more flesh than a breastfeeding woman. Which says to me the objection to feeding in public is not that breasts are in any way exposed, it’s an aversion to them being used for the purpose of feeding. And that’s even more sad.

I’m pretty unapologetic about feeding in public and feeding without a cover. Riley quite liked a cover when she was feeding, Piper does not. And I’m quite happy not to be mucking around with another piece of fabric while getting a baby to feed.

I was thinking about my breastfeeding relationship with Piper this week and thinking I wanted to write something about it. But this isn’t what I wanted to write. And I’m not going to diminish that story by including it here.

What I wanted to say here was, to every single person who ever glares at me because I’m feeding in public without a cover, I can’t see you. I’m too busy looking at my smiling, happy baby. There is no room for you.

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Great Expectations

Posted on March 3, 2010 11 Comments

This is a joint post with Amber at Unlikely Mama. You can follow her on twitter here. We thought it would be fun to look back on what our expectations were before we had our babies and how they’ve changed a year on (for Amber) and two years on (for me).
Having Children

Amber: Let me start from the beginning.  I never “expected” to have a baby.  As my online moniker hints at…it was highly unlikely that I would become a mother.  Not because I couldn’t, but because I NEVER wanted to.  Not until I met Peter 4+ years ago and his way with kids turned my clock on.

Zoey: I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have kids when I was in my early twenties. And it seemed like the kind of thing that you needed to be really sure of. And then, it seemed all of a sudden, I was sure. There was no real defining moment – I just knew.

Pregnancy

Amber: Once I changed my expectations of myself…a whole slew of other changes came about.When I found out I was pregnant I was flooded with emotions…fear being a huge one.  But more than that, I was filled with excitement and expectations about what the pregnancy and motherhood would be like.

Zoey: I tried not to be terrified while I was pregnant. I really tried. It didn’t always go so well. I think my perfectionism took over as well. And I researched a lot. It is no surprise to me that half of the ideas and expectations I had when I was pregnant seem ridiculous to me now.

Birth

Amber: First off my birth expectations were that it would be medicated and in a hospital.  Numb from the waist down like natured intended?  I even posted in my LJ about not needing to be a martyr, and that pain meds were invented to be used.  But the more I started researching birth…the more I realized that I wanted to REALLY experience it.  Actually, a good friend of mine started this whole trip when she told me not to bother with an epidural because her’s didn’t work..and the “rolling” feelings she had while it was still natural far outweighed the numbness.  I started reading about what could cause those feelings, and found my answer…Oxytocin!  I was hooked on this natural love drug and couldn’t wait to experience it!  I wanted the bonding, and was terrified of screwing it up otherwise.  Yup, I was turning crunchy :-)

What I ended up with was a 10 week preterm labor and a c-section.  No free love, no chance to bond (well for 4 days anyway).  It needed to be done to keep the baby safe, but I was not at all prepare

Zoey: I expected to have a natural birth. I didn’t even read the chapter on c-sections, because I figured that would never happen to me.

I wish I had known more about it. I wish I had refused induction medication when I arrived for my induction and was told I was already in labour. But I didn’t know any better and I was ill-prepared when the Doctor told me that I was headed for an emergency c-section. I was so scared. I’d never had an operation before. And I had to stay so still for the spinal anesthetic whilst I was having contractions. No mean task.

I didn’t realise how violent a c-section would be. Or how incpacitated I would be. Or how I would always feel strange whenever I used the phrase ‘given birth’ in connection with the experience. But still, I don’t regret any of it because after all of that Riley was born.

Family


Amber: Before Alexa graced us with her (EARLY) presence we were struck with a ton of family expectations of us.  They were, well my family, sorely disappointed when they found out we weren’t budging on our stance.  My father expected to come to the birthing center with us, I told him I wanted to be alone with Peter and the midwife.  My mother expected to come up to stay with us the 2 weeks before and after the birth, I told her no we wanted to spend the first 2 weeks (Peter’s paternity leave time) alone together bonding as a family.  My mother then expected me to send her the first picture of the baaaaaaaaaaybeeeeeeeee so she could be the FIRST to see her.  I told her I wasn’t playing favorites and would copy everyone in on the same first emailed photo.  It was actually Peter’s family that surprised me.  I expected that they would be the pushy ones, and they were actually the most respectful of our wishes…who knew!

My expectations of our families were on and off.  My father lives next door and dotes on both of my neices so much.  I thought he would be over here more.  I thought he would drop in with small gifts all the time like he does for the other girls.  He hasn’t bought Alexa a thing (his fiance picks everything out), and has never once offered to babyshit (though we’ve asked him to do it twice).  It’s hard because I’m so close with him, but sometimes I feel like because we live next door we’re forgotten.  It’s like I’m always here and always available..so there’s no need to dote on me :-(

My mother, who I thought would be the biggest pain to deal with has actually become the person I trust the most.  She is the only one respectful of my wishes with feeding, holding, and sleeping…especially sleeping.  I am very pleasantly surprised with being wrong wrong wrong with my assumptions about that relationship!

Peter’s family has met my expectations.  They treat her like a toy in some regards…and pretty thing to be passed around.  They buy her far too many, and far too expensive, presents.  They talk about how pretty she is.  I’m afraid if she doesn’t live up to their expectations that they’ll treat her differently than if she were “perfect”.

Zoey: Pleads the fifth. My family reads this blog. Boring, yes. Accurate, definitely.

Partners

Amber: My expectations of Peter have went back and forth.  Before we really thought about having a baby I just assumed Peter would be the “motherly” one.  He’s far more sensitive and sweet than I.  He’s also the person in the room that ALL kids flock to.  They love him, and that’s the only reason I ever reconsidering becoming a mother in the first place.  I kinda thought he would do most of the work, heh :-/
As it turned out, I assumed all wrong when it came to how much I would turn into the mamabear!  Peter turns to me for help and advice.  Sometimes I get snippy because I still think he should know what to do…the fist year of parenthood is HARD.

Zoey: I expected Josh to do just as much around the house whether that be housework or helping out with Riley. He had three months of paternity leave when Riley was born, which was so nice. What I didn’t expect was that sometimes babies have a preference. Sometimes it doesn’t matter if i hadn’t had a shower, had anything to eat or even just felt like I needed 5 minutes to myself – Riley still insisted that she be attached to my chest. The amount that we snip at one another is directly related to who has been sitting in with Riley to get her to go to sleep and who has been in the kitchen making noise.

I always though Josh would make a great dad, but I was pleasantly surprised with how well it suited him (most of the time)

Sleep


Amber: I really didn’t have any expectations of sleep, for me or Alexa.  Though, I guess I’m lying there, since I DID assume we would all be sleeping through the night AT LEAST by now (1 year out).  Hmmmm, guess I’ll have to take Zoey’s father’s word that you give up on that for 2 years :-)  The first months were rough, I won’t lie, but I think we slept more than the “average” family because we co-slept (something we did NOT intend on doing).  We have a crib in the nursery and had a cosleeper/bassinette in our room.  My “plan” HAHAH was to have Alexa sleep in the crib for naps, ya know…to get her used to it…and to sleep in the cosleeper next to me.  Yeah, not so much.  She had reflux and needed to be semi-upright, so she slept in the crook of my arm, on my chest, or on Peter’s.  Once she was able to lay flat we had already perfected side-lying nursing and couldn’t turn back.  There was no way I was going to get up in the  middle of the night when I didn’t have to.  NOOOOOOOOOOOW I don’t know how to get her off my boob at night, so she’s kinda stuck in bed with me for the time being (or actually I’m stuck in bed with her).

Zoey: I’m going to sound like a bit of an idiot here, but before Riley was born I thought the issue with sleep was that babies woke up a lot to be fed. I didn’t even consider that they might need some help getting to sleep. So needless to say, I was not ready for the hours of feeding, rocking and patting to sleep that were in store for me. And Riley loved to be rocked. I only stopped rocking her (at around 12 months) because she was getting too heavy for me.

She mostly sleeps through now. Although I was sure she’d sleep through by 6 months, she didn’t. And then I was sure she’d sleep through by 12 months and she still didn’t. It wasn’t until she was 14 months that she started and not until around 18 months that sh was doing it with any reliability. If it wasn’t for co-sleeping I’d be the walking dead by now.

Whether she’ll put herself to sleep or not is still a bit hit and miss. Sometimes she will, sometimes she won’t. Here’s the kicker. Now that she’s not a baby anymore (even if she’ll always be my baby), I now look forward to the nights when she comes into our bed, or needs help getting to sleep and I get to watch her little eyes fight sleep but eventually close and I get to look at her peaceful little face. Most of the time, anyway.

Breastfeeding


Amber: I expected breastfeeding to be easy…my mother did it for both me and my brother.  Everyone else I knew that tried was successful.    Well Alexa’s prematurity screwed that up and it was HARD!  It’s still hard sometimes and we just celebrated our 1 year anniversary of nursing.  I never thought I was so stubborn, but I really learned a lot about myself.  I would NOT give up and I’m thankful that we persevered.  I also assumed it would melt the fat…it did NOT help me lose weight :-(

Zoey: I expected breastfeeding to be natural and easy. Women have been doing it for thousands of years, right? But initially we had latch problems and I’m amazed that I managed to get through those first few weeks where breastfeeding was excrutiatingly painful and I dreaded each feeding and cried through most of them. After all of that calmed down I was surprised how easy it was. And relieved that it meant I didn’t have to get out of bed in the middle of the night.

Unlike Amber, it helped me lose weight fast. The problem? I’ve stopped breastfeeding and failed to adjust my diet accordingly.

Not Expecting


Amber: I guess I should have known from the start not to expect anything.  I mean, I was so wrong about not wanting to be a mother…how could I be right about anything else?

Zoey: I have learned that you aim for perfection, you’ll always be disappointed. Always. And I’ve also learnt that expecting things is a recipe for disaster. Babies love to make liars out of their mothers.

What were your expectations?

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Just Wonderful: Love and Partners and Natural Parenting

Posted on February 9, 2010 53 Comments


Welcome to the February Carnival of Natural Parenting: Love and partners!

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama. This month we’re writing about how a co-parent has or has not supported us in our dedication to natural parenting. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

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Love and partners: How has a co-parent supported your dedication to natural parenting — or not?

When Riley was born, my relationship with my husband changed. Because all of a sudden instead of one relationship, we were dealing with three. Our relationship as life partners, our relationship with our daughter, and our relationship with one another as parents.Another interesting thing happened as well. We stopped arguing, sort of. We disagree, alot. But we stopped needing to be right. I would say what I felt, he would say what he felt. And if we still disagreed, we just let it be. This is in stark contrast to previously where we would both continue to beat a dead horse until one of us admitted that the other one was right. I don’t know why, but following the birth of our daughter, both of us stopped needing to be right, we just needed to be heard, even if that meant that nothing really changed.

I did not have natural parenting ideals when I was pregnant. And in all honesty, I probably wouldn’t have even known what natural parenting or attachment parenting was. I read What to Expect When You’re Expecting in tiny little snippets so the weight of responsibility and risk didn’t totally freak me out. In the last month of my pregnancy I watched a million b-grade documentary type series on cable all about birth (most ended in c-section) and babies (mainly focussed on why won’t they sleep/eat/sleep). I found the idea of breastfeeding beyond 6 months a little bit creepy, looked down my nose at people who had babies or toddlers who wouldn’t sleep or would only sleep in their parents’ bed and couldn’t figure out why parents would walk around carrying their baby/toddler when they were pushing a perfectly serviceable stroller.

My husband had different ideas. His number one priority in our baby shopping was to get a baby carrier so he would be able to carry her around. So I bought one of those front-pack type carriers along with a sling. The sling seemed like a good way to be able to get things done with having both hands free. I didn’t really consider all the benefits of the sling in terms of bonding, comfort and closeness. Towards the end of my pregnancy we were doing some last minute baby shopping. My husband saw a co-sleeper (a little bed that sits on the main bed). It had a night light and little sides to stop you from rolling over onto her in the middle of the night. I didn’t really see the point. I mean, she was going to be in her own room from at the latest three months anyway. But, I’d done most of the shopping for the new arrival, and I wanted him to be involved so I placated him with the purchase.

There were two things that we both agreed on while I was pregnant, we would not be smackers and we would not cry it out. I felt very strongly about both of those things.

Then our beautiful baby was born, by emergency c-section. Josh kept me calm during the c-section by asking me for my rugby league tips for that week. Excellent distraction tactic. I was ill prepared for actually how violent a procedure a c-section is. Because I had skipped that chapter in the pregnancy book. I was going to have a completely natural birth, with no drugs, and there was no reason why I would need a c-section. The googy had other plans. She had one hand on her head and the other hand was hanging on to the cord. I remember seeing Josh’s face when they pulled her out and pronounced she was a girl (he has only ever wanted girls). He looked at me with more happiness and excitement than I had ever seen, and I knew she was ok. Her birth was a physical manifestation of our marriage. We had said the words, but she brought them to life and no matter what happened in the future, we were inextricably joined forever in this tiny little person.

Very quickly, all of my ‘ideas’ about parenthood and babies went out the window. Fair warning: you should never develop any firm ideas about parenthood before you actually have a baby – you’re likely to end up looking like a bit of an ass. I slept with her in the bed with me in hospital because I couldn’t bear to put her in the bassinet, just arm’s reach away, it was too far. I mainly dozed at first, because I enjoyed the feeling of her on my chest so much. I was comforted by her heart beat and her soft breath.

Breastfeeding was a challenge. I had damaged nipples and we struggled to find a good latch. I felt I was failing her at something that was so important, and was supposed to be so natural. I cried a lot. My desire to breastfeed was strong enough that I persisted through the excruciating pain and the dread of each feeding. Two things got me through it and to the other side where breastfeeding was enjoyable and painless. Josh gave me support and understanding through the hard times, allowed me the freedom to consider other options if I couldn’t get through it, acknowledged my efforts and held my hand as I bawled my eyes out through the pain. A wonderful midwife and lactation consultant also set me on the right path with the latch and spurred me on further, telling me that it was obvious how much I loved Riley, given the extent of the damage. Once in a while though, when I was up for the umpteenth time of the night breastfeeding Riley or trying to get her back to sleep and Josh was next to me snoring, I was tempted to beat him over the head with something.

I became an avid breastfeeder, and fell quickly and easily into on demand feeding, because it was so much easier than anything else. Sometimes it seemed like Riley was breastfeeding for 6 hours straight. I loved the closeness and connection of breastfeeding and often fed her to sleep, through teething pain, or whenever she needed a little bit more comfort. Josh would often stroke her head, hands or feet while I was breastfeeding, and it was a bonding time for him too. Josh used to walk past the formula in the supermarket and say ‘it’s not right, I’m so glad we didn’t have to go there.’And although we were both ready when we stopped, I missed it once it was gone.

Josh had three months paternal leave when Riley was born. And I needed him, every day. I was so grateful that we had that time together as a young family. When I was barely conscious from exhaustion he would take Riley for long walks while I either slept or just stared off into the distance, allowing myself to unplug. He fed me at all times of the day and night, quick meals that I could scoff down before catching some sleep. He proudly set up the co-sleeper in our bed at night, and on the couch during the day. He often used the night light to look at her while she slept (or check that she was breathing). Riley stayed in the co-sleeper until she was too big at around three months. At which point she moved to the bassinet (still in our room) for the first sleep of the night and then she usually slept with us after that. I mastered the art of the night-time breastfeeding and was able to sleep through most of her latching on. When she was too big for the bassinet, we moved her to the cot (in her room) at around 6 months. But it didn’t last long and she slept in our bed off-and-on until she was about 14 months. Although she’s now in a toddler bed and sleeps in her room, whenever she wakes up in the night we still enjoy co-sleeping, even look forward to it. We both wavered at times on the whole parenting to sleep thing, due to exhaustion, frustration and no prospect of change. Luckily, we never wavered at the same time. She was over a year before she started sleeping through with any reliability. And now, with hindsight, we both realise how short that time really is. When we were in it, we were so desperate for her to sleep through. But now, we both realise that the period of babydom is so much shorter than we were really ready for it to be. Parenting to sleep can be frustrating, boring and exhausting. Parenting to sleep can also be a special time for quiet connection. Josh loves it when Riley falls asleep next to him, and he sees her heavy eyes close and her body claimed by slumber.

We both preferred the sling or the carrier to the stroller. Sometimes it was a battle to decide who would do the carrying. It was a joy to have her mushy little face fall asleep against your chest. Even better was when she would wake up, slightly disoriented, and look up to realise that we were still there and she would get a happy little smile on her face. And I am one of those parents who carries her toddler around while pushing the pram. Because contrary to some of my opinions before Riley was born, babies and toddlers are actually people with emotions and needs and preferences. Riley has a preference for being held most of the time and I count myself lucky that we have such a cuddly daughter.

I happened across a natural parenting website by accident. And there it was, our parenting style, reflected back to me. None of it by design. Josh and I had floundered our way through early parenthood all through intuition and instinct, and landed somewhere that was totally comfortable for us and all three of our relationships.

The greatest difficulty Josh faced as a parent was not anything to do with sleep deprivation, or discipline, or the fact that he occasionally struggled to engage with her when she was a little baby and she didn’t really do anything other than lie there – prepared to be entertained. It was when she was really sick and she had her trip to the ICU. And it wasn’t that it was scary, or traumatic or the fact that we were completely out of control. It was after that, when she was getting better. She would cry if he came near her, and she would push him away if he came too close. She would also cry if she ever saw us hugging or kissing. And she was still hoarse from the tubes, and any cry was devastating to hear. After the trauma of her hospitalisation, all he wanted to do was hold her and cuddle her and kiss her and keep her close. And it broke his heart, over and over again. His pain was naked and raw. It was made worse by the fact that she didn’t even have the strength to crawl or sit up on her own, but she somehow found the energy reserves to make her rejection of his advances known. It took a long time, and an absolute commitment on his part to demonstrate his adoration for her, regardless. Sometimes he was frustrated, sometimes he was deflated and sometimes he was just plain hurt. And eventually, she returned to herself again, and to him. Now, you would never know it had even happened. So when the other day she crawled onto his lap for a cuddle after her nap, or when a few months ago her first clear word was “Josh”, he treasures it all the more.

Co-parenting wasn’t always easy for us. At times we were both frustrated with her clear preference for mama. I often wished that he could put her to sleep, and while this sometimes happened, more often than not, my presence was a requirement.  Because I stay at home most of the time, it is also difficult sometimes to make that transition from me doing everything all day to us both participating equally either at night or on the weekend. That is still something we are working on. Our styles are different. Not in a core way, which definitely makes things easier. But, nonetheless, there are differences. Because I’m at home all day, I tend to pick my battles. That is something that Josh is still working on. I am more permissive than he is, and that is still something we’re working out together.

Since we both want to avoid day care if we can, Josh has started taking a day off once a month where he looks after Riley and I go into work. This has been great for both of us. He gets to see how the other half lives, has one-on-one time with Riley, and all in all tends to have the time of his life. Last time he had a day off, when i got home and asked him how his day was, he replied ‘just wonderful’.

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