But you know what is different this time around?  My little sister is going through some of the same things right along with me. She had her baby just a few weeks before Baby O.

Here’s how a typical phone call with sis tends to start:

Me: Hey. You busy?

Sis: No. Just sitting here nursing.

Me: Hey – Guess what I’m doing?

Sis: Nursing?

Me: Yup. How’d you guess?

It can be so reassuring to know that someone else is going through the same things you are going through. Sis may be living all the way in New York while I sit here in Texas, but we both sit on our couch every day, gazing at our baby’s face and gritting our teeth while we look at the dust-bunnies roll like tumbleweeds across the floor, knowing that there isn’t a chance in hell that they will be cleaned up anytime soon.  We are both putting our babies ahead of our disheveled homes.

Just the other day I had to call Sis to vent about how people keep pointing out the spit-up that continually appears on my shirt or on Baby O’s mouth/lips/neck-folds/shirt. I mean, how dare they point out the unavoidable obvious, like I should be doing something about it. I’ve somewhat come to terms with the way I look and smell, but the masses haven’t.  You know who else understands this? Sis does. I love that. Then we talked about how, no matter how much we try, we can’t seem to get the spit up to land on the burp rag. Our babies seem to almost always aim elsewhere. On the arm, down the sleeve, on the neck, and the worst – between the boobs! Who else can you call, other than your sister, to vent about cold clammy baby vomit dribbling down your chest?

We are helping each other in other ways, too. Since I’m nursing my 4th and she is nursing for the first time, I’ve been putting my counseling skills to use with some breastfeeding assistance. I’m not sure if I’m always helping, but I’m trying my best. What she probably doesn’t know is how she is helping me. This is my fourth child and I think if I didn’t pay attention, I just might get lost in the stress of dealing with a household where the needs of 4 demanding children are constantly battling with my sanity. Talking to my sister as she nurses her little one reminds me that it’s OK to occasionally sit and focus on Baby O without guilt, because every baby is a new relationship. I’m falling in love once again, much like the first time, and nourishing that relationship in these early days of spit-up and sleeplessness is important and necessary.

Thank goodness for sisters.

[Thanks to John 'K' for the above photo.]

My current child is 16 months right now. She nurses most nights every 2 hours, in my estimation. I never sleep through nightly nursing sessions, as many nursing mothers can, just because I’m not capable of it. I just can’t sleep through the sessions for some reason. So I’m up over the course of the night A LOT! I am seriously touched out on a regular basis, sometimes to the point that I feel like I might just scream. Seriously. and this is not my only child that has nursed at night regularly. My first nursed every two hours at night until he was 2.5 years old (he spontaneously night-weaned when I was pregnant with number 2). and my second child nursed at night regularly until she was 4.

The most important things I’ve done to make the nights tolerable are this:

1. I make sure I’m physically in bed at night, trying to sleep, for at least 10 hours.
2. My husband is required to get up at least one hour earlier than me and take the baby out of the bed and out of the room to give me a break.

#1 is important because I have to get around 7.5-8 hours of sleep in order to be a happy mom. So if I’m up all night nursing, I have to be in bed for much longer than those 8 hours. So if that means I have to go to bed at 8 or 9 pm, I do it. For me, I’m willing to skip interacting with the husband in the evening, or watching TV, or whatever. Sleep is more important to me. If the baby isn’t ready to sleep when I go to bed, my husband hangs out with her and the other kids while I get a head start on sleep. He knows to bring the baby in when she is *really tired and ready to nurse* (sometimes he rushes it when she just starts to get cranky, and then I have to lecture him a bit!).

#2 is sooooo important because I’m usually totally touched out by the end of the night, and I absolutely need that hour or so totally alone in bed to recharge. It really helps me so much. When my husband takes the baby out of bed in morning, he sometimes just sits with the sleeping baby on his chest in front of his laptop. Or if the baby wakes up, he feeds her breakfast and reads to her and stuff.

Here’s another thing I’ve done to cope: I’ve adjusted my expectations. I know this sounds kind of simplistic, but bear with me. There were some nights when all I could think about was getting the baby detached from my breast so that I could roll over and sleep without touching her. By the end of the night, I’d spent most of the night trying to detach and feeling stressed and miserable when it didn’t work for at least half of the nursing sessions. Plus, I was exhausted and angry about it. It was bad. Then, one night, I sort of went into it thinking that I was going to make the best of it, making sure I had a really comfortable pillow for my lower back, and just trying to relax and sleep and get comfortable in the nursing position. After those nights, even if I spent equal times nursing, I realized I felt better. I didn’t realize the difference at first, until I talked about it with my husband. and then it was like, “Eureka!” So now I try to go into the night just figuring that I’m going to be attached to the baby most of the time. Not that I don’t often try to detach. But I try not to get all caught up in focusing on getting away from her. And it makes me feel so much better when morning comes. If I’ve managed to have a few hours of independent sleep, that an extra bit of coolness. If I’ve spent most of the night with a baby attached to my breast, that’s OK, too, because I didn’t set myself up for failure in the beginning.

One last coping strategy that comes to mind: Use childbirth coping strategies to get yourself by in the most stressful moments. I was reminded to use the childbirth strategies when my first was getting older, and he was sort of giving me “the willies” when we nursed (people who have nursed older children sometimes have this toe-curling sensation than can really bug you.) A fantastic unschooling parent suggested that I use coping strategies to get through the rough patches. Now I use the coping strategies when I feel touched out and really want to run away. My favorite coping strategies are listed in Birthing from Within: An Extra-Ordinary Guide to Childbirth Preparation .  They have all sorts of visualization strategies that have really worked for me. My favorites are “spiraling” and “Quaker listening”. You can use these visualizations to either distract yourself from freaking out, or you can use these things to relax. It’s really similar to childbirth in a way. In labor, you have this pain sensation. So you need to focus on other things to reduce the pain. With being touched out, the replacement for pain is the sensation of this nursling who is nursing and being in constant contact with you. We love our kids, but sometimes the sensations just become too much for us (just like in birth). There is one visualization that involves spiraling smoke from your core, which can help you to relax and fall back asleep at the same time.

I love that birth metaphor. Just like we go through the pain (and hopefully, pleasure) of birth for our babies, we sometimes have to go through some more stressful things in meeting their needs in the early years. It’s also  important to remember that we often need a partner’s support in breastfeeding,  just like we need our partner’s support during labor and birth. [This is, of course, if we have a partner in our bedroom at night. This may be more difficult for single parents!] Our partners may have no idea what “being touched out” feels like, as they may have had no idea what giving birth is like. But partners can still try to understand and help us through it. If we explain that the work of breastfeeding is just a continuation of the work of labor and birth, perhaps the partners will feel more able to give us the help we need to cope with night nursing.

[Photo credit: Raphael Goetter]

Where human milk is available for free for all those rare circumstances when a baby might need it, and for as long as the baby needs it.

Where there are comfortable benches anywhere a breastfeeding mother might need one – in the supermarket, at the pharmacy, on the sidewalk. Not just at the playground.

Where, when people see a woman bottle feeding a baby, they assume it must be a babysitter, or perhaps a mother with a severe medical conditions that prevented her from breastfeeding (very rare), not a mother for whom the breastfeeding support was lacking, because breastfeeding is truly the norm.

Where new mothers aren’t worried or nervous about the idea of breastfeeding in public, and where they feel confident going out to breastfeed for the first time.

Where there are strong laws with severe penalties for those that would try to stop a mother from breastfeeding, but where these laws are mostly unnecessary and rarely used, because people don’t harass breastfeeding mothers.

Where new mothers learn about breastfeeding from their families and friends, and from years of seeing people breastfeeding out in public, and where breastfeeding classes are unneeded and are a thing of the past.

Where breastfeeding rates are way way up, and breast cancer rates are down.

Where people on talk shows don’t debate whether nursing a 6 or 7 year old is wrong, because they trust breastfeeding mothers, and know  breast feeding has nothing to do with sex.

Where children are used to seeing breastfeeding going on everywhere, and no one worries what a child might think or do if they see a mother breastfeeding her child.

Where the sight of a breastfeeding mother makes everyone smile and where we all feel healthy enough inside ourselves to take pleasure in seeing a happily breastfeeding baby.

Where health-care professionals don’t give out incorrect information to nursing mothers, and where dentists don’t moonlight as experts on parenting.

Where a mother who is having breastfeeding difficulties can call any number of friends and family members to come and help her out, and where people all around her will rally to support her breastfeeding relationship, and where she knows she can turn in any direction for breastfeeding help.

Happy World Breastfeeding Week 2010 (August 1-7, 2010)!!

If you are having difficulty breastfeeding, call a La Leche League Leader for free help.

But here I am with my 12 week old baby, and today I took her outside on 5-6 separate occasions and cued her with a “pssss” sound and she peed!  I even caught my first poop today!  I can’t help but be incredibly impressed that I’m having a whole communication process with my 12-week-old about peeing and pooping, and she really understands.  Not only that, but I reduced the amount of diapers that I used today quite a bit. And B’s butt was dry for quite some time. I’m sure that feels great to her.

We aren’t ECing full time right now.  Right now, on a good day, I’ll have B diaper-free for about half the day.  The rest of the daytime she wears cloth diapers.  Sometimes she’ll be in a cloth diaper and I’ll just take it off when I sense that she needs to pee.  Other days I get really busy or exhausted, and B will spend the day in cloth diapers.  At nighttime, we don’t EC at all.  I use a few disposable diapers at night.  Right now, I just don’t have it in me to sit up in bed and do the EC thing.

This is how we started ECing:

The first week or so of ECing I viewed as an observation period.  I started this when B was about 8 weeks old, which was when things calmed down enough after the birth that I thought I could handle trying this.  Whenever I had time, I would lay B down on a waterproof changing pad and take off her pants and diaper.  I’d put a cloth prefold diaper under her to absorb any pees. I would pay careful attention to what she was doing and when she was peeing.  I would try to notice what sorts of facial expressions and body movements she was making when she peed.  And whenever she peed, I would make the cue noise (psssssss) and tell her, “Yes! You are peeing!”

After those first observation weeks, I decided to give the cuing a try right around when I thought she might have to pee.  I’d take her outside and put her in a supported squat against my back and make that same “psssssss” noise.  I was shocked to find that she had learned the noise, and she peed most of the time when I took her outside. I think she is peeing partially because I am so in tune with her and I can tell when she needs to go. She is also partially responding to the cue noise. So our communication is going both ways.

Of course, sometimes I am wrong in my guesses, and she doesn’t pee.  When that happens, no big deal.  Other times I’m not really paying attention, and she sometimes pees on me.  Again, no big deal.  I have changes of clothes, and pee isn’t that gross or anything. When she pooped on me at the beach, that was pretty gross, but I got over it.

One nice part about ECing is that I feel like our family has recaptured the ancient wisdom of the past. Arp tells me that he thinks his grandmother practiced Elimination Communication. She lives in India, where EC was typical, but may be dying out due to the influx of disposable diapers. By the time Arp came along, his mother tried making the cue noise with him, but combined it with some regimented, power-based, traditional potty training. It is clear that the wisdom had been lost in Arp’s family. Sadly, breastfeeding in his family has also become a lost art. Like many developing nations, the new generation seems to be following in footsteps of the west, with reduced breastfeeding rates combined with the (wrong!) belief that formula is easier and better than breastfeeding. Ditto homebirth. Arp’s mother was the last member of his family to be born at home. My children are changing those trends. We are going back to some of the old ways with ECing, breastfeeding, and homebirth. Now, if only we can convince a few of Arp’s cousins to give them a try, too. Unfortunately, Arp doesn’t hold much hope that they will.

Whenever I nursed my first two children in public, in the United States, I was almost always confident and sure of myself.  I never used a cover-up, and I nursed just about everywhere I went.  Restaurants, stores, parks, museums. Sure, in the first few months of nursing my first child, public nursing made me a little nervous.  But once I got some practice, there were no worries.  But here is the important point: the United States is my home country.

Nursing in public changed entirely for me once I arrived in Costa Rica.  My family and I are immigrants here.  Although my newest child, born in Costa Rica one month ago, is a Costa Rica citizen, my family and I are still somewhat like strangers in the culture.  We may be in the process of achieving residency here, but we haven’t exactly become natives. There is so much that is unfamiliar to us here, including the language.  Although my goal is to become fluent in Spanish, learning has been a lot slower than I’d like simply because I’m a really busy mother. Sometimes when I walk around town, I have no idea what the people around me are saying.

You might be wondering what all this might have to do with  breastfeeding.  Well, ever since coming to Costa Rica, I’ve been really stressed about nursing in public.  It’s not because Costa Rica has any laws preventing public breastfeeding.  It’s also not due to Costa Rican breastfeeding culture.  I mean, Costa Rica is a country that really values motherhood, fatherhood, and family life.  Heck, I’ve seen teenagers here walking down the street and happily holding hands with their parents or grandparents.  The reason I’m suddenly uncomfortable has a lot to do with my own sense of cultural awareness, or lack of it.

You see, in the United States, I knew that if anyone ever confronted me in public about breastfeeding in public, I would be armed with information about the law which I could share with the offended person.  Or I could just tell them off.  Here in Costa Rica, it’s not so easy for me.  Not only am I not that familiar with the laws, but I would be unable to explain myself in Spanish if I were ever confronted.  This really stresses me out.

I also sometimes have trouble reading the cultural signals.  For instance, when my family and I were sitting in a park one day, an older woman once gave me and my husband some very negative looks.  We had no idea why she was looking at us this way.  Was it because my kids were climbing on the metal fence at the park?  Was it because I was wearing shorts (in some instances, shorts are not socially acceptable for adults here).  Was it my nose-ring?  Or maybe the woman was just having a bad day?

In a public breastfeeding situation, I fear that I won’t be able to read the signals that people are giving me.  For instance, are the men who avert their eyes from breastfeeding just being polite, or are they horrified to see a woman with her breasts out in public? Am I expected to using a nursing cover-up, or can I just lift my shirt with no problem?  Will people be uncomfortable if I nurse my four-year-old?  And what about nursing in restaurants and other public places?  Will breastfeeding be OK everywhere?

Just the other day, I nursed my four-year-old for the first time in front of our maid, Olga.  Even though I was nursing in my own house, I was a little nervous about what her reaction would be.  Would she be shocked or embarrassed?  Would it be a source of discomfort for us on the days when she was cleaning our house?  When I nursed J, Olga luckily smiled right away and put me at ease.  That made me feel so much better.  But a few minutes later, she asked me something in Spanish about it.  I didn’t understand much of what she said, but I got the feeling that she was asking me if it was OK to nurse both children in tandem.  She ended her questions by saying, “es bueno?”  So I said, “Si!  Es bueno.”  But I wish I had a better handle on the language so that I could have understood what her concern was, and so that I could have explained myself better (such as, “Yes, I have plenty of milk” or “Yes, I don’t mind nursing both of my children”, etc.).  But lack of language skills prevented me from doing that.

On the other hand, maybe part of the reason I’m so stressed about nursing in public here in Costa Rica has more to do with my experiences in my home country than my new country.  Even though I’ve never actually had anyone harass me for nursing, the stories I’d hear on the news coming from the US make it clear that there is much legal and social work to be done before all US women can fearlessly nurse in public.  Regardless of our legal rights, there are occasional incidents where women are harassed in the US.  In this new country of mine, it’s hard to put aside my history of living in the United States.  My friend W, a LLL leader here in Costa Rica, tells me she has never heard of anyone being harassed during public breastfeeding here.  But still, I worry.

As a volunteer who supported mothers in their efforts to breastfeed in the United States, I admit that I really didn’t even think much about the immigrant breastfeeding mother.  Most of the mothers that I helped were US citizens, just like me.  But now that I’ve put myself in this entirely new culture and country, I wonder more about how putting a woman in an unfamiliar situation affects her willingness to breastfeed, whenever and wherever.  After all, many of us would be more able to be brave on our own turf than in a strange place.  I’m wondering how I can better support the immigrant mother in her breastfeeding efforts.  Definitely something to think about.

More posts from the Carnival of Breastfeeding on nursing in public:

• Grudgemom: Nursing in a room full of people you know
• Lucy and Ethel Have a Baby: Nursing in Public (Boobs) Out and Proud
• PhD in Parenting: Would you, could you nurse in public?
• Dirty Diaper Laundry: Breastfeeding in Public – Talents – I haz it
• Kim through the looking glass: Here? At the restaurant?
• MumUnplugged: Aww, is he sleeping?
• Massachusetts Friends of Midwives: Nursing in Public: Chinatown, the Subway, the Vatican, and More
• Mother Mary’s Soapbox: June Carnival: Breastfeeding in Public
• Mommy News & Views Blog: Breastfeeding in Public
• Breastfeeding 1-2-3: To Cover or Not to Cover
• Stork Stories: Little Old Men…& Nursing in Public
• Chronicles of a Nursing Mom: Why Worry About NIP?
• Warm Hearts Happy Family: Breastfeeding and the Summertime
• Blacktating: Thank You For Nursing in Public
• Musings on Mamahood: NIP, no tuck
  
• Motherwear’s Breastfeeding Blog: Get kicked off a bus for nursing in public?  Here’s how to respond.
• Mama Knows Breast: Adventures in Breastfeeding: Products That Can Help You Breastfeed in Public
• BabyREADY: A wee NIP in the park!!
• Tales of life with a girl on the go: Planes, trains and automobiles – we’ve breastfed in them all
• Breastfeeding Moms Unite!: Nursing in Public: A Fresh Perspective on Nurse-Ins
• Never a Dull Moment…: Breastfeeding Hats? YES! Nursing Covers? Uh… Not So Much
• Breastfeeding Mums: Nursing in Public – What’s a Breastfeeding Mother to Do!!
• Hobo Mama: Easy, discreet way to breastfeed a toddler in public