Last year at this time, my two-month-old baby girl was going through her “lean phase.” She was not nursing well, not gaining enough weight, and I was a wreck. This was just previous to her nursing strike that led to a long, anxiety-ridden battle with delayed letdown.
Can I just say, I’m thankful that it is this year and not last year? That I’m over all the crazy first-year, breast-related struggles of parenting? That my daughter can and does happily eat all sorts of “real” foods?
As one who battled through breastfeeding, who cried and fought and bled, who never got to a point where it was “nice” or even to a point where it didn’t hurt, I have come to embrace the fact that how good of a mother you are has nothing to do with your breasts or your decision of whether or not to feed your baby with them.
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my short/unending one year of motherhood is that I could never, never judge another mother for her parenting choices. We have all struggled through private battles, and we each of us must make our own choices.
With love, to all you mothers out there. Happy Thanksgiving.