Versus

In my quest to raise our child in the proper, socially acceptable way, my ideals and priorities constantly change based on things I read or conversations I have with other mothers; it seems that every week I am obsessed with some other aspect of her upbringing until I finally throw up my hands and do what I think is best.  Why am I using "my" and "I"?  Because Chandler has it all worked out: keep Waverly alive, fed, happy, and safe, whatever it takes.  Why can't I just be content with that too? Maybe because I make things harder than they need be, maybe because I want to do everything perfectly "right"?

My first obsession: breast feeding.  Everybody is doing it these days and it's only natural that I should do it too; however, I wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect.  Nonetheless, I read a few books and picked up one in particular written by those loving referred to as the "nipple nazis" (excuse my lack of political correctness... it's my blog).  I was told that my baby and I would be a "nursing couple" (insert gag reflex here) and that I should ideally nurse for her first one to two years of her life. I could never hold her too much; in fact, I should just carry her around with me in a sling everywhere I go or better yet, surgically attach her to my hip.  I'm not much of a clingy person anyway and while I love my daughter more than anything in this world and would fetch her the moon and stars if she asked, I want her to be somewhat independent, like content to lay in her boppy or go to sleep on her own at bedtime.  Plus, I need a little disengagement for my own sanity.

Then I had a few conversations with other mothers, one being my own mom, and for them, breast feeding was not the experience I had read about, but encouraged me to try it since it is what I wanted to do.  I specifically remember my mom telling me that when I was born, formula feeding was the trend and the big dilemma for each mom was horrid white, high-top shoes that provided ankle support...?  Ridiculous if you ask me.  Anyway, I had read up on all of the health benefits as well understanding the economic benefits and for me, breast feeding was more of a necessity than a desire; maybe like the shoes.  I'm sure my ankles and legs are so much stronger from wearing them and I wouldn't be where I am today without them.

I tried it and things didn't go as well as I had hoped, so I stopped and Waverly was on formula after two weeks.  I felt overwhelming guilt and this decision consumed my thoughts and conversations; however, once Waverly started gaining weight and seemed to carry a more pleasant disposition, I felt increasingly better about my decision and tensions started to ease here at home.  That's not to say that I won't try with the next baby.

My second obsession: her schedule.  I referenced a couple of the books I already owned and read another book completely focused on putting the baby on a schedule, how to do it, and why it's important.  This book was quite different than the breast feeding book that I got halfway through and set aside.  The authors encouraged a parent-directed schedule that would remain the same day after day and at a certain point in the baby's life, you let the baby "cry it out" at nap time.  I actually liked this book because, having siblings much younger than me, I remember them being on somewhat of a daily routine and had talked to other mothers who agreed that it was essential, but to be flexible.

Needless to say, I want to do everything right, so I set her on a schedule, but let me tell you, it was stressful.

Really, who am I kidding?  I am too exhausted to think on this post anymore than I already have; it's been a particularly difficult day.  Bottom line: She is formula-fed and on a pretty particular schedule; she's growing like a weed, way too fast for my liking, but is alive, fed, happy, and safe. I'm sure I'll have plenty more to trip me up over the years, I just hope I take it more in stride than I have so far.