At least the NHS doesn’t expect women to be back at work in 6-12 weeks. The most “progressive” thing we’ve got going here is that your hourly job is required to let you go sit in the back room and pump a couple times a shift. That’s our great victory.
Looking back at my first year of motherhood, I am insanely bitter and regretful for the decision to keep expressing from the time I went back to work, when he was 7 weeks old, until he was about seven months. It’s hard enough to work outside the home while caring for an infant; spending every break at work at a pump, spending a couple hours a day dealing with the fucking pump–and trying to still nurse as I could–was insanity and not worth the benefit. It made me always feel like a failure, always feel like I wasn’t doing enough. I didn’t have enough time as it was, and losing the time to expressing just made everything worse.
And no one will tell you to quit. Doctors, everyone is just “It’s really, really important, so try your best. Do the best you can.” Well, what the fuck does that mean? I was able to do it, but at the cost of not enjoying my new baby. Of damage to my marriage that took a lot of work to fix (I had a lot of unconscious bitterness about being the Only One). Of being much worse at my job, and feeling like I was fucking over 200 students. Of being exhausted all the time, of a joyless, dreary existence. But all they say is “Try your very best. Don’t quit if you don’t have to”. But it’s not that simple. It’s always about cost/benefit. The cost was horrific but manageable. But everything around me told me that the benefits were literally immeasurable, and I had to soldier on with the same determination I would apply to literally saving my son’s life: I should “nurse as long as I could” in the same way that I should “try to drag the baby from a burning building as long as I could”. There was no sense of proportion, no nuance.
That’s our working theory. My kid can communicate pretty much everything he wants without using language. I’m not sure he fully understands that words mean things, but he knows if he throws a book in my lap that I’ll read it to him, and if he raises his arms I’ll pick him up. His life is pretty simple at this point.
A friend’s son did not speak a single word until he was 3. He had all sorts of tests run, all showed him to be normal. Even once he started talking, he didn’t speak often or say much, further testing revealed no pathology.
He grew up, excelled academically, and got his PhD at a remarkably young age. He then went back to school and obtained a second, unrelated PhD. He still doesn’t talk much, but what he says tends to be profound.
And that is push back against not that long ago when the companies that make formula were telling women that breast feeding was the barbaric, animal thing to do, and formula was much better for you baby. All just so they could make money selling it.
The point being, that moms in particular, but all parents, have always been easy targets. “Here’s something you love more than you could have previously imagined, and if you don’t do what I say you’ll break it.”
@MandaJo, I’m so sorry. Will it help that my baby is twenty one years old and I’m still bitter about the breastfeeding nonsense. Bitter enough that when I went into my clinic and saw breastfeeding propaganda posted on the wall, I spoke to the clinic manager…“that sort of information is actively harmful to women who suffer from PPD - and much of it isn’t even scientifically accurate.”
My sister just couldn’t produce milk. Lactation consultants had her expressing every hour, to “stimulate” milk produ ton. What little she got was bloody, eventually. Constant pain. Same message “Well, if you can’t take it, I guess you have to stop, but I would be great if you could just try . . .”
I swear to God, announcing that you intend to abort a pregnancy will get you more support than announcing you intend to formula feed.
I’m over it now. But I count it as one of the worst decisions I’ve made.
This is what makes me really worry, because she doesn’t seem to understand much either. Only in the last couple of weeks have I thought she was starting to understand some things. Not just words but gestures. And she doesn’t point, if she wants something she just reaches for it. It’s is the worst thing about forums for Mums: you get people posting saying they are worried about their baby, and when you read the post it turns out they are way more advanced than your kid.
That’s a scary thought. The biggest reason our baby is likely to be an only child is that she practically won’t sleep unless one of us is with her.
Yes, I’m very thankful to live in a country with maternity leave, even though the UK is pretty bad compared to most other countries. I wasn’t even really recovered physically by 6 weeks, still had no idea what I was doing. I can’t even imagine going back to work at that point.
I know what it’s like to pump, because my baby couldn’t latch at first, and then she got used to bottles and screamed and refused if I tried to nurse her. That damn mooing pump sound at all hours of the day and night! I hope I never have to hear it again. Pumping is the worst of all worlds, and I definitely wouldn’t have been able to continue if I hadn’t managed to transition her to the breast. Unlike you though, most people I knew told me I should just quit and formula feed.
I’m right there with you. He doesn’t understand pointing and I can’t tell him to do something (like get the ball!). But he will bring the ball, or book or whatever to me whenever he feels like it. And whenever we read to him, we present two choices and he picks one. But I’ve tried to get him to choose other things and he doesn’t get it. He also gives a clear “no more” gesture when he’s done with something. So he is communicating but I don’t think he ties words to things yet. I wish I understood what was going on in that head of his.
What I will say is that developmentally speaking, were not supposed to worry yet, but jeez, it seems like every baby our age is ahead of us.
The most pressure I got was in the hospital from the nurses and lactation consultants and they were so hesitant to break out the formula my kid got jaundice from not eating. He wasn’t latching and I was getting nowhere with pumping. Then while I was wallowing in agony at home my husband called a doula service and they were great to me but apparently he got a little mini - lecture about how almost every woman can do it if they are really committed. He gets enraged whenever he talks about it. I was floundering in suicidal despair (I mean “googling firearms online” suicidal) with gruesome intrusive thoughts and the message overall wasn’t “Omg let’s do everything we can to make this easier for you” it was “try harder.”
Fortunately I didn’t get much pushback from anyone else. I felt guilty for like, a week and then I got over it. I read a couple of books that get into the science and the politics (Pushback: Guilt in the Age of Natural Parenting) and I’m confident we did the right thing.
My sister has a toddler and a baby just a couple of months older than mine, and she told me her kids are/were just the same. Her toddler is 3 now and at some point just took a leap in language and now talks in sentences. So I’m trying not to worry.
I’ve been playing games to try and get her to pay attention more: I copy what she’s doing, which she enjoys; I hand her toys and she hands them back sometimes; or I roll a ball to her and encourage her to roll it back; I try and draw her attention by pointing right at things (not from a distance) and talk about them. I don’t know if it’s helping or she’s just reached a stage on her own, but she does seem to be ‘getting it’ a bit more recently. One thing she has learned is that she needs to lie still for nappy changes, which is nice. Much better than when she was constantly trying to escape!
That’s awful. Our baby also had jaundice, she was tiny and so sleepy because of it, and they insisted we feed her formula and wouldn’t let us leave the hospital until they saw she was drinking from bottles okay and the jaundice was improving.
I took mine into the pediatrician and was given the choice, bottle feed or hospital the next day. Thank god for a sensible pediatrician. But god forbid, the lactation consultant was absolutely against this due to nipple confusion and made sure to let me know that I was going to never be able to breastfeed! Two days later she did latch and we breastfed for six months. But I wasn’t producing milk, and despite what lactation consultants and the La Leche League believe, there isn’t enough there when your milk doesn’t come in, and some babies give up (I had to pump to get mine to come in)…My mother’s came in late, my sister’s came in late, my aunt’s came in late and mine came in late. We can breastfeed, but in order to not have the baby end up in the hospital, they are going to need to get nutrition for the first three days from somewhere else.
(When the aliens come and enslave us, I’m “meat cow” not “milk cow.”)
My son was a slow talker, and I had the schools speech therapist come evaluate him. He was a little behind normal, not so much he needed intervention, but my youngest is 13 months behind him and was VERY verbal. The speech therapist cautioned us not to compare our kids.
If you are worried, look into early intervention through your school district. An evaluation is usually free.
Very true. Parents know what it was like to be a young non-parent, but they have a much fuzzier notion of what it’s like to be a non-parent later in life. Their lives as non-parents stopped when they had their kids and moved down a different track, and they do often tend to assume that the lives of other non-parents stopped in the same place. Like you don’t really learn anything or develop a deeper relationship with life in the passing of the years if you failed to get your upgrade to parenthood status.
This goes triple for many married people’s assumptions about the lives of never-married people, as well.
If I may nitpick a bit, there’s a big difference IMHO between “Can’t understand” and “Hasn’t experienced yet.” One Doper wrote upthread, for instance, that non-parents can’t understand the murderous rage that parents feel when someone abuses their kid, but I think that’s intuitive and obvious enough that most non-parents do, in fact, understand it even if they haven’t experienced it yet for themselves. It’s perfectly intuitive that your kid being abused would induce rage. Same for another Doper who said upthread that non-parents can’t understand the terror parents feel when their kid goes missing - I’m sure most non-parents follow that intuitively.
The answers I was looking for were more along the lines of what someone said upthread; “Non-parents tend to overestimate the amount of control parents have over their kids,” etc.
There is a difference between believing something is true and actually experiencing it. The protective instinct is a unique, intense experience. I might know that skydiving is thrilling, but my imagination can only take me so far.
One thing is that your child feels like a literal extension of yourself. It’s not just a normal feeling of empathy like you might have for any friend or relative. It’s more like that movie trope where when one twin stubs their toe and the other twin feels it because they are so tightly connected. When your child feels happiness or sadness, it feels like it’s happening to you. Their successes and failures feel like they are happening to you. Parents feel compelled to ensure their kids do well because it pretty much feels like they are helping themselves do well. There is the objective reason that if my kids do well then there’s a better chance that they can care for me when I’m old, but that’s not the emotional reason I care about my kids. One reason for this might be the hormone changes that new parents experience as part of the bonding process. Maybe it’s like parents are addicted to their children almost like a drug addiction.
