I nursed my best friend's baby.

Our Milk Sharing Project.
Please read all the way through to both stories.

 I was about to hand over my baby to my best friend, and I was flooded with memories of where we started. I met Haley in 8th grade.  We were obsessed with Freddie Mercury, lipstick, and Myspace.  We were so different but so the same.  We had passion, empathy, and were convinced that we would change the world.  Those are the things that never changed.  Our friendship always seemed like fate.  I always had an overwhelming feeling that I needed Haley.  Time went on and it always seemed like we were living mirror lives.  We both married our high school sweethearts at 18, and our first babies were 9 months apart.  We were on spiritual and political journeys together and always looking for new answers. 

 I remember sitting in a restaurant with Haley when her daughter, Amelia was only a few weeks

Tucker & Amelia

old.  I had just found out I was pregnant and we were catching up on life.  She nursed Amelia, something I never thought twice about, but afterwards she pulled out a bottle and asked me if I wanted to feed her.  I was fumbly, and had no idea what I was doing.  She was the first baby I had ever bottle fed.  I come from a family full of breast feeders.  I always knew breastfeeding would be a part of my life, but in that moment I remember looking at that bottle and thinking "oh how weird, of course babies use bottles, but why had I never thought about them before?"  Thinking of the baby inside me, I had a moment of panic.  "Do I need to buy bottles?  I have no idea how all this works!"  Haley looked up at me and said "I have supply issues and have to supplement."  Again, I had no idea what she was talking about.  It was in that moment that I realized that I had a lot of reading to do.  I went home that night and researched all that I could.  I was seeing articles about women being kicked out of stores for nursing their babies.  I saw controversy over weaning, formula, and nipple shields.  I had been so ignorant and naive.  I had no idea these issues were even issues.  There was a whole mommy online community and I dove right in.  I met amazing women, learned so much, and began to form very strong opinions on all the hot topics.  I was that mom that had decided to breastfeed and nothing was going to get in my way.  I had no reason to believe I'd have supply issues, or reasons to pump, or even pain.  My baby came and I had information, a support system, a lactation consultant, and yes, I had breastfeeding issues.  I had flat and inverted nipples that caused immense pain, blisters, bleeding, and tearing.  I dealt with lip and tongue ties that were misdiagnosed as reflux issues.  Immediately the pressure to switch to bottles was on me.  I was exhausted and frustrated, but my need to be right about everything was stronger than my need to sleep.  I pushed through and a few weeks later things eased up.  I had milk flowing all over the place, latch issues had been fixed, and I had begun pumping to donate.  I preached breastfeeding education, attended mommy groups, and proudly nursed my baby anywhere and everywhere.  I really chalked up everyone's issues to a lack of education and support.

Months passed, and Haley and I decided to go in on a pregnancy pact.  We were both wanting second babies, and what a great idea it was to get pregnant together!  Haley was by my side through 12 months of fertility issues, a miscarriage, and nursing while pregnant.  She was my rock.  Finally I got pregnant, and she was only 12 weeks behind me.  We talked about all the possibilities of the outcomes of our pregnancies, births, and breastfeeding.  I asked her to be my kid's God mother, I asked her to nurse my baby if I had died, and of course I asked her to photograph my upcoming birth.  I had a beautiful, successful, home birth, and I continued to tandem nurse my boys.  Again, I had an abundance of milk, and it all came pretty naturally to me, especially with all the experience I had with my older son.  We quickly diagnosed and revised this baby's tongue and lip ties, got through a case of mastitis, and began to pump to donate again.  It was Haley's turn.  I sped to the hospital at 3am to meet her newest little!  I watched her latch him on and get settled and I left to let the family bond.  A few days later I met her at her house to spend some time with her.  I walked in and saw her nursing Elliott with pure exhaustion on her face.  She was so determined this time to make her breastfeeding journey happen with no interventions.  With frustration in her voice she said "He wont get off my boob...all day!  all night!"  I responded with "well, just hang in there, it's always tough those first few weeks."  I decided to sit and observe the entire picture for a while.  She was clearly making milk, she could express some out, and he was gulping and eating.  We talked about his weight gain and diaper changes and something just didn't seem right, but this was way out of my league of knowledge.  She decided it was time to get some help.  Elliott was failing to thrive.

I got a call a few days later.  "My heart is broken.  I have breast hypoplasia."  My heart broke for her.  I had a hundred questions, but I couldn't cry for her.  I immediately went into "fix-it" mode.  There HAS to be a solution.  Our bodies were made for this.  That's when it hit me.  Everything I had believed had shifted.  My sanciti-mommy idea of "nature has made it this way" changed to "nature sometimes messes up".  The sadness in my best friend's voice left me shaken.  I was not going to leave her alone in this.  I immediately started pumping for Elliott.  She gladly took my milk, and I watched our community of friends wrap around her and she was getting love, support, and spare milk.  This is how it was meant to be.  Women loving women.  We went back to that tribal mentality of "it takes a village."  The village is there to balance out nature's mistakes.  One has what another lacks.  The Yin to the Yang.  If we were all perfect, we would never need each other, and God intends for us to work together.

The years of being friends we were always trying to break social stigmas.  We worked hard to promote love, community, peace, honesty, and equality.  This milk sharing relationship just brought us closer.  I felt a love for Elliott that I had never felt for someone else's child.  I was nourishing his little body and I loved it.  We promoted our milk sharing friendship in mommy groups and social media.  We heard so many different things from different people.  "Wow, I never thought of using donor milk!"  "Isn't that a little gross?"  "I'd pump for a baby, I guess that's better than wet nursing!"

Why was there so much controvery?  What if we weren't so selfish with our milk?  What if we fed each other babies all the time?  I grew angry at the changes in society in the last few generations.  We now live in a world where a working mother has to struggle to pump on short lunch breaks and pray that she has enough for her baby in day care.  We live in a world where it's more normal to make a mixture in a bottle for your baby rather than let another mom help.  I was not okay with this, and neither was Haley.  We began talking about wet-nursing one another's babies.  Would this be weird?  It was weird, but it was weird because we had never seen it before.  Everything is strange before we experience it ourselves.  We wanted to normalize this too.  We decided that we would have this event photographed and documented.  We were going to share this with everyone we knew.

Here I was, about to hand my baby to my best friend to nurse.  This baby that I grew, birthed, and had solely nourished myself.  I had a mixture of feelings of jealousy, love, confusion, nerves, and peace.  This was meant to happen.  God put us here for this.  Everything in this moment made sense.  I got pregnant 12 weeks before her so I'd have an established supply by the time she needed my milk.  I had an over supply because she didn't have enough.  I met her in 8th grade because one day we were going to change the world together.  Haley and I are soulmates and I believe that to my core.  I could write a book on how our friendship is based on fate.  I can do this.  I can share my body with someone else's baby.  I can share this bond that was meant for my babies.  I can break this weirdness.  I can love my best friend's baby.

So we looked into one anothers eyes and we swapped babies.  We sat down and pulled our breasts out.  I wondered what Haley was thinking as she was looking at my baby.  I wondered the whole time if he was okay, if he would latch, if he would be confused.  I looked at tiny Elliott.  It's amazing the difference 12 weeks makes in development.  I was working hard to get him to latch.  He could smell that I was different I'm sure, and I was fumbly as it had been a while since I nursed a baby that still needed help latching.  I was surprised that this wasn't weird for me.  I thought I might have experienced some aversion, but all I saw was a little baby that was hungry.  He latched on and he still had a newborn suckle and I melted a little bit inside.  This is okay.  This was good.  I could hear my baby next to me needing me though, and my instinct was to go to him.  I don't think I could ever love someone else's baby the way I love mine, but in that moment Elliott came close. 

Amber wetnursing Elliott

Elliott & Forest

 I love the connection that breastfeeding has between mother and baby.  I loved that I got to experience a glimpse of that with Elliott.  I love that Forest got to experience an intimate moment with my best friend.  I love that Haley and I are forever milk sisters, and Elliott and Forest are forever milk brothers.  I love the piece of us that we all carry with each other.  I love that our older children, Tucker and Amelia, got to witness this and never even questioned it.  I love that we are forming gentle and natural futures for all our children.  I love that we are forever family.

Pumping for Elliott

After our photo shoot we sat around and we pumped milk together, and Tucker helped bottle feed Elliott for the first time.  Every family is so different, and I love that my son is seeing a variety of parenting styles and understanding that moms are meant to work together.  He recently told me with no question in his voice that he saw that some babies use bottles and some babies have boobies.  I love that he observes these things.  I love that he sees that some

Bottle Feeding Elliott

families do things differently and he didn't even think to judge, question, or critique the situation.  Sometimes I think I can learn a thing or two from my 3 year old.

 


Overall I'm so pleased with this experience.  Yes, I did this just to prove a point.  No, we did not HAVE to wet nurse.  But, there is a woman out there who needs the courage to do what we did, on either end.  There is a baby out there hungry.  There is a desperate mom.  I believe a single drop in the ocean can change the weather.  So, if we helped one mom, one baby, then this entire experience helped change everything.  To that mom who needed their baby to be nursed by a friend while she was in surgery.  To that mom who couldn't pump enough for the baby sitter and needed her to nurse her baby.  To that mom with Breast Hypoplasia.  To the dad taking care of his baby after his wife died in labor.  To the adoptive mom.  To the mom who needed to take anti-depressants.  To the mom who needed a break.  Whatever your nursing journey has entailed, just keep on keeping on.  We are all on the same team.  Your journey is a personal one, a beautiful one, your own story.  Whatever your story, I hope your village has supported you and uplifted you.  To whoever you are, we did this for you.

- Amber

 
 
And here I stand… about to hand over my newborn to my best friend.
Amber has been a significant part of my life for a little over a decade now. Describing Amber isn’t very easy to do because there isn’t a stereotype that anyone could possibly lump her into. In my eyes she is goofy, offbeat, beautiful, honest, and most of all, she is deep. She has the ability to think outside the box as well as within. That’s unique and with that being said we easily bonded from the day we met. Our conversations consist of but aren’t limited to philosophy, politics, culture, how we will change the world, and most of all birth, babies, and boobies. We have always stood together as we have crushed social stigmas, as we did today. I have never cared for cultural norms because in my head, I could not possibly understand, what is defined as normal. We all have such different perceptions of the world. My vision of the future is the same as Amber’s vision. We want people to love, accept, and connect.
And here I stand… handing my newborn son to my best friend as I receive her son.
I lock eyes with her and there is a current, this current connects us. As mothers, as friends, as sisters. I quickly reminisce about a current event. The reason why we are standing here at this very moment. Amber has been nourishing my son since he was a week and a half old. I flash back to giving birth to him, the moment Amber first walked in and saw him, and the moment I learned that Elliott was failure to thrive (over a week later). The emotions, painful and beautiful, flooded my brain, causing a release of endorphins and oxytocin.
My son, the person I created, was failure to thrive. I breastfed early and I breastfed more than often. How was this so? I did everything right… How am I failing AGAIN? Amber encouraged me to keep trying and to keep seeing Sara (my friend and lactation consultant). She was as confused as I was. A couple of days later I saw Sara and the doctor. The information I received was devastating. I felt like someone tore my beating heart out of my chest. The pain to me was equivalent to someone close to me dying. I called Amber and broke it to her, while in tears. “I have breast hypoplasia and Insignificant glandular tissue”. This meant that I couldn’t exclusively breastfeed my son. This meant the body that created , grew, and nourished him for 9 months, could not fully do so anymore. Amber listened to me and sympathized, while feeling broken herself. “I will help feed him. What do you need? How much milk do you need?” she said without hesitation. This was an understanding that we mutually had for a while. We had agreed in the past, that if something were to happen to one of us that we would breastfeed each others children. This was the beginning of our milk sharing journey and just another bond we share, added to the list. 




And here I sit… looking into Forest’s eyes.
Forest. A baby that I am so connected with. I was there when he drew his first breath and I was about to nurse him. I felt butterflies, which made me feel anxious in my stomach, but my heart and mind were as calm and grounded as can be. This wasn’t weird. Amber’s children are my second set of children. Tucker and Amelia, our older children, played and danced around us as he latched. Forest nursed for only moments and he was done. I looked over to see Elliott nursing contently, with his little head bobbing as he suckled. This moment stood still for a moment, as I took it all in. I’m completely connected to Amber, she is my soul sister, but in this moment I had never been more connected.
We then nursed our own babies while lying in the grass. I smiled and laughed, as I enjoyed the

company of Rowan (who captured these lovely photos), Amber, and our children.
I can’t ever thank Amber enough. Her love for others radiates through her every pore. She loves me enough to do this for me, she loves my son enough to do this for him. I know how hard pumping is since it’s a vital part of my life to keep my supply up (along with nursing on demand). She pumps for my son, while balancing her busy life and nourishing her own babies.

 I only make an estimated 35-40% of what Elliott needs. This unity between Amber and I bound us and our sons together as milk sisters and brothers for life. This unity helped me heal in some ways.

Every ounce counts

I want everyone to know, that if you are healthy, it’s okay to milk share. It is not weird. It is not gross. It is beautiful. We need to connect as a community now, more than ever before. Don’t let our culture tell you it’s not okay because it is. Babies deserve to be breastfed. 

Elliott's donor milk from San Jose Milk Bank

I have a few other thank you comments to make. Thank you to my friend Heather for donating about 75 (or more) ounces to Elliott. Thank you to all the mothers who donate milk to others or milk banks (my son can’t have formula due to intolerance). Thank you, to Mother’s Milk Bank in San Jose, CA, for testing, processing, and sending milk to my son (and thank you for being non-profit). Thank you to every person who has provided me with comfort during this hard time (you know who you are). Thank you Sara Stone for helping me with my breastfeeding journey for the last 4 years and for finding my biological lactation issue.
This has been a spiritual journey for me. 

-Haley 







A special thank you to our local WIC for providing us with breast pumps, love, encouragement, information, and community.  Support your local WIC!
Thank you to our friends who have become our special village.
Thank you to our supportive husbands who held our hands during birth, cleaned our pump parts for us, and occasionally even rub our feet!
Thank you to the online mommy community for helping the entire breastfeeding cause.  Some days it feels like we know you all in real life.
Thank you to Rowan Price for capturing these beautiful photos and for your excitement for this project.


More photos from our wonderful day!

Placenta encapsulation Step by Step guide.

I have encapsulated my first placenta.  I have not attended any trainings and do not have any certifications.  So if you are on this page to learn how to encapsulate, please take my journey with a grain of salt and take into consideration I am not yet a professional.  I took my closest friend's placenta knowing her medical history and with the assurance that if I screwed the whole thing up she wouldn't hate me.  So here is my journey encapsulating, step by step, with photos.

Materials:
Dehydrater, ziploc bags, cutting board, ice chest, ice, strainer, bowl, bucket, wash rag, towels, ginger, lemon, clove, knife, steamer tray, large pot, tongs, coffee grinder, funnel, capsules, mason jar, straw, small bowl, good music and incense.



If this is a hospital birth, call the hospital before hand and check with their policies on collecting the placenta.  The hospital I collected this one from had a time limit after  the birth of how long they were allowed to keep the placenta on the premises.  The also asked that I brought an ice chest and ice.  They had the placenta in a container with a lid already but just in case I'd bring a ziploc or some sort of container that will stay sealed.


Step 1:  Thaw & Wash

In a clean sink, put the thawed placenta in a strainer.  Thoroughly wash the placenta until all the blood and clots are off.  Cut the sac and the cord off.  Squeeze the cord free of the blood and set aside if you are planning on making a cord keep sake.  Throw out the sac.  Appreciate the beautiful tree of life.  Place the placenta on a cutting board and cut it into thirds.  I did not do this and I regret it.  It did not properly fit on the steamer, took a long time, and just wasn't working the way I wanted it to.

Step 2:  Steam

This is the time of the process when lighting incense or candles is highly recommended if you are at all squeamish about this whole placenta business.  And get some good music going to get 
your mind off of what is actually happening in your
kitchen.  Fill a large pot with a few inches of water with lemon slices, powdered ginger, and cloves.  Place the large placenta pieces on a vegetable steamer inside the pot. Bring water to a boil and watch the placenta begin to brown.  After 20 minutes or so flip the placenta over with tongs.  Let steam until no juices are coming from it when poked.

Step 3:  Slice

I did not cut into thin enough slices.  So, bring the placenta to a cutting board and slice into the thinnest slices as you can.  This is also a good time to shape your umbilical cord if you chose to make a keep sake.  I made a heart.

Step 4:  Dehydrate

You can also do this in your oven, but I chose to 
use a dehydrator.  Line each tray with wax paper. 
 Place the umbilical cord on the top tray.  When I 
put the slices on the wax paper, I spaced them so 
they were fairly spread out.  I read online that they only need to dehydrate for 6-8 hours, but because of the thickness of my pieces it took more like 12-15.  Check on it often and flip pieces if needed.

After they are finished, check on the hardness of 
the pieces.  They should not be soft, squishy, or anything of the like.  Break into pieces small 
enough to fit into your coffee grinder.


 Step 5:  Grind

So now that you have some placenta jerky all ready to go, grab a small bowl, a coffee grinder, and a straw.  Cut the straws end at a triangular angle to make scooping easier.  Some 
choose to use a funnel instead but I liked the 
straw.
Put a few small chunks in the coffee grinder and 
grind into a fine powders.  Some small chunks are
ok as long as they will fit into the capsules.  I used
00 gauge capsules and purchased on amazon.
Pour the powder into a small bowl that will be easy to scoop from.
Carefully pull apart the capsules and use the straw to scoop the powder into the capsules.  It's not recommended to mix the placenta with any herbs in case there is any allergic reaction.  Fill the large end of the capsules all the way to the top and then cap them.  They will stay closed on their own.  Then fill your mason jar with the pills.  Refridgeration is not required, but recommended. 

Step 6:  Deliver or Consume.

Fancy up your jar, and either consume or deliver.  Placenta pills are great to help your lochia, your milk supply, give you more energy, and to help prevent post partum depression.  You can take them all back to back or save them for times when you need it.  I've even heard of women saving them for menopause.

Dear Elliott

1 Samuel 1:27      For this child I have prayed, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of Him.

Dear Elliott,

In the wee hours of this morning you came Earth side.  I know, for as long as your mother lives, you will hear your birth story.  She will repeat the treasured details to you when you need to feel loved, to put you to sleep, or to remind you how dedicated she is to you.  I'm writing you this letter to give you a glimpse of your birth day from my eyes.  You see, when you were born the world around your mother stood still.  Nothing else but you and her mattered.  For me, time was going too slow.  I was sitting at home watching my phone.  I was so anticipating you.

Finally, I was awoken and I could feel the love and pride in your mother's voice through the phone.  You did it.  You both did it together.  My eyes swelled with tears.  I immediately got dressed and jumped in the car.  Your mom and I began our pregnancy journeys together only 12 weeks apart, and here I was, with Forest in the back, making the trek to you.  The moon was so big and bright and my windshield was covered in small raindrops.  Such a strange morning for June.  I began my drive praising God that he protected you and your mom and kept you healthy.  I was in absolute awe of your role here on Earth already.

I rushed into see you and the first thing I saw was your mom nursing you.  You were trying so hard to latch and seeing you discover your world melted my heart to a puddle.  I know that you will never fully appreciate what your mom did for you until you see the birth of your own child, but trust me when I say that the complete exhaustion in your moms body couldn't even be seen through the pure love on her face.  She grew you for 40 long weeks and her job is not done.  Her body will continue to nourish yours for months to come and she will guide you, encourage you, and cherish you for the rest of her life.

You have a perfect nose and look so much like your daddy.

As I made my drive home the sun was rising.  The sky was pale blue and grey and the sun was a soft yellow as it creeped it's way over the mountains.  Cars sped by me rushing to wherever and I just couldn't imagine what could be so important.  These people were missing out on the most peaceful morning.  The sound of the road kept me company while I let my thoughts dwell on the beauty of your life.

You have come into a beautiful world.  It's important that you know that you were loved even before you arrived.  That you were prayed for, wanted, and treasured.  That you matter.  You are not small or insignificant.  You are not a fleeting thought.  You were meant to be here, exactly when you got here, and you have a huge purpose. 
You were born to a generation that has made great strides in changing the world.  We have come so far in activism, equality, technology, and science.  My generation has worked so hard to create a beautiful place for our children to live.  Our hearts are for you.  We have so far to go though, and it's so amazing to think that you will be a part of making the world a better place.  Every word you say, every step you take, has a ripple effect on the rest of the world.  Every time you smile you have made a difference.

As you grow I just pray that you spend your time searching for what makes your soul happy.  I pray that you follow your heart and fulfill your purpose.  I hope that at times of hurt or confusion that you never lose sight of your significance.  I pray that you fill your life, first and foremost, with love.  Know that this world is huge and full of opportunity, but small and full of connections.  I hope that you carry the feeling of knowing you matter so deeply in your heart that you are able to see how much every other person matters too.  I want you to take that with you every where you go, so that you can make connections with every person you meet, so that you can pour out your love to them.  I hope you have a strong thirst for knowledge and you never stop wanting to learn.  My wish for you is that you walk through life seeing every moment as an opportunity to listen, learn, and grow.  

The world is yours for the taking.

Happy birth day Elliott.  Enjoy your life.

End The War, Share Your Milk

Before I gave birth to my first son, I was ignorant when it came to the subject of feeding a baby.  I was slightly disturbed by the idea of nursing past a year.  I was anti-formula and a little judgemental of anyone who used it.  I thought if you fed your child a handful of goldfish crackers that you were indeed a lazy parent.  I have lived and learned and I feel like I've stepped down from my sancti-mommy pedestal quite a bit.

After struggling to breastfeed in the beginning of my nursing relationship with Tucker I realized that breastfeeding struggles are real!  The blood, the blisters, the supply issues...these things are real, and they are mentally draining.  There is nothing worse to make you feel like less than a mother than when your body isn't doing what it was made to do.  We did power through and with the help from LCs and support from my husband we were successful!

But I finally understood...I was just a few blisters away from making a bottle.  I was no longer anti-bottle or anti-formula.  However, the more I read and became involved in the breastfeeding community, the more I realized I am anti-formula company.  I also realized how many issues lie within society that are negatively affecting breastfeeding and the relationships between women. 

I wont get too much into the politics of formula companies and hospitals, but I will say that they don't care about you or your baby.  So what do you do when you want the best ingredients for your baby, your body wont work the way you need it to, and you don't have the support system you need?  What do you do when society has shamed you for showing a few square inches of your breast in public when your baby is crying to be fed?  What do you do when your group of friends are breastfeeding and you have to pull out a very expensive can of formula and feel embarassed?  Why have our fellow females left us alone in this journey?  Shouldn't we all be helping and empowering one another?  Why aren't we sharing the gift of this liquid gold?  Why are we keeping our milk to ourselves?  Why are we so selfish and judgemental?  You don't deserve your milk supply any more than any other woman...you just got lucky! 

I was a lucky one.  After a few weeks my supply was flowing, I made it through the first few weeks of struggles, and I had a huge support group.  I had the best ingredients for my baby.  I had worked through the pressures of society and I was giving the middle finger to anyone who shamed me for feeding in public.  I didn't have to pay to feed my baby.  I was not alone in this journey, and I was being empowered by my network of friends.  I knew that if I want to make a difference in taking down these formula companies and supporting my fellow women that I had to do my part.  I needed to donate my milk.

I began to imagine a world without formula.  Not out hate or judgment, but out of sympathy and love.  We don't need formula.  We should not have to pay to feed our babies.  We should not be leaving one another alone in this journey.  The world survived for thousands and thousands of years without formula, so what happened these last hundred-ish years making formula the norm?  Have we become so disconnected from one another that a bottle of strange ingredients was more acceptable than someone else's milk?

I wanted to reach out to a mom and help her the only way I knew how.  Wet nursing is a beautiful thing, but I wanted to feed a baby while helping another mom still have that bond and connection that breastfeeding brings.  So I began to pump.  If I gave a mother my frozen milk then she is left with the option of how to feed her baby how she wants without the guilt of not knowing the ingredients, and without the burden of paying for it.  She can bottle feed, she can use an SNS, she can mix it into a puree of vegetables for her growing toddler.  The option is hers.  This made me feel like the power was being given back to women and I was doing my part to help.  I was bringing down the need of formula.  Formula companies are like our milk supply...they are supply and demand.  The less they are demanded of the less they will supply.  The more that women seek the help from one another, the less that these companies will prey on exhausted and frustrated mothers. 

So if you are one of those moms who have cringed at the idea of formula.  If you have had the blessing of being able to walk right past the bottle isle at the store.  If you have never had the very real struggle of wondering how you will afford another can of over priced powder for your hungry baby.  If you have had the privilege of being annoyed at your soaking wet shirt from leaking an over supply of milk.  If you have gotten that moment of celebration when you've weighed your baby and the doctor has patted your back as if you are somehow responsible for how fatty your milk is.  Then please, share your blessings.  God does not bless you so you can keep it for yourself and look down on others who are struggling.  God blesses you so you can bless others.  Take what you need, give the rest.  Go to your local WIC, get a free pump, pick up discounted storage bags from your local baby thrift store, and commit to just one pumping session a day.  Clear out some space in your freezer, watch your milk stack up, and start networking online to find a mom in need.  Humbly offer your milk, go deliver it, and feed a hungry baby!  Do your part to reconnect mothers, to take the formula companies down, and give a desperate and exhausted mother a chance to feed her baby guilt free.  Let a mother save some money, help her feel supported, and give her friendship.  Sharing milk can change this war.  Sharing milk is love.


Human Milk for Human Babies on facebook
Eats for feets on facebook
Women Infants Children [WIC]

Dear Tucker, my self-weaning toddler

Dear Tucker,

My Oldest baby.  My independent, sweet, self-weaning toddler.  It had been two days since you have asked to nurse, and now here you are in my arms, asking to nurse again after a melt down about having to take a bath.  I love soothing your frustrations.  Sitting in my lap, I can feel your arms stretch around me and your face against my chest, with your feet dangling down by my legs.  You are getting so big now, but you still know just how to cuddle me to melt my heart.  I know these moments are numbered now.  You've learned how to self sooth, you've learned how to put yourself down for naps, and even dad can be all the comfort you need at times.
Breast feeding you for these last 2 years, 10 months, and 14 days is the most challenging, self less, and beautiful thing I've ever done.  But I know I don't have much longer, so this is my letting go letter to you.
This has been the hardest goodbye I've ever faced in my life.  Some days I feel so touched out and done, but then moments like this, with you in my lap, I am reeled right back and and can't imagine this ever ending.  You see, I'm not just saying good bye to those big blue eyes staring up at me.  I'm not just saying goodbye to those night time snuggles where I can hear you snore off and smell your hair.  I'm not just saying good bye to those tears that have fallen down the side of my breast after you've just fallen down and skinned your knee.  I'm saying good bye to the baby who made me a mommy.  Before you I was just Amber, but the moment you were born I earned the best title in the world...A mom!  Now the name Amber just sounds so empty.  I'd rather hear a little voice call me Mommy any day.  You were the one who gave that to me, and now I have to let go of the last of your baby stage.  My heart aches for that loss.  But I'm gaining so much by saying hello to the next chapter in our relationship.  The baby stage went too fast, but I know in my heart I soaked up every moment.  So many times I was so exhausted nursing you every hour of the night, but I never slept unless I couldn't take another second.  Often I'd stay awake and watch you sleep...I never wanted to miss a thing.  I loved watching you dream and wondering if you were dreaming of me, or dreaming of still being inside of me.  I missed being pregnant with you and I know nursing you kept that connection alive for both of us.  I know you sleeping next to me allowed for you to hear my heart and feel my warmth.  I know you gained as much from that as I did.
Someday you'll be grown, and you will be by your wife's side, just like your daddy was next to me, staring at our beautiful creation with complete awe.  She'll be nursing your baby.  She will struggle,a nd be frustrated, and like your dad you'll know how special and important to her it is to succeed at this breastfeeding journey.  You'll give her encouraging words, and you'll read how-to books, and seek help from nurses for her.  When you see your wife's dedication and love on her face for your baby, I hope right then in those moments you get a glimpse of my love and dedication I have for you.  I will forever treasure our nursing relationship, our bond we created, and the blood sweat and tears [literally!] that we shed together.
You are forever my baby.  Thank you for accompanying me on this beautiful journey.
Love,
Your mom

Update 11/17/2015  about 6 months later:

Me: "you haven't nursed in a while, Tuck"
T: "Nope, I don't drink mom milk any more"
Me: "You're all done? Forever?"
T: "yup"
Me: "How about one last time?"
T: "Ok, but this is the last-iest last time ever"
...as he pops off "Thanks mom!"

My heart is shattered...but I did it. I self weaned a toddler. I breastfed Tucker for 3 years 5 months and 3 days. 8 months of which he has shared with Forest. We battled ties, mastitis, pregnancy, blood, sweat, tears, and so much joy. This has been my favorite part of motherhood. It was not easy, but it was sooooo worth it! But I saw it in his face, this was it. He went over 2 weeks without it, and this was our final goodbye. The most goodbye-iest goodbye ever. The was the last time my body would ever nourish his. I made him...I made him, and then my body grew him, and created an entire other organ to keep him alive, and then when he came out, my body made milk to continue to keep him alive. I GREW A HUMAN AND KEPT HIM ALIVE. The moments I'll forever treasure: First latch, hand stands, picking my nose while he nursed, tandem nursing and holding hands with Forest, making me nurse his dinosaurs, all the times his tears would fall down my chest and somehow my milk made it all better, all the late nights just him and I, the old man in walmart, calling them his bestfriends, telling me they taste like chocolate, helping me pump for Elliott, ok...now I'm crying. I can't believe this is over. It feels like a lifetime ago that I didn't make milk...it's just a part of my life now and I can't remember not ever doing it. So here it is, I'm no longer a tandem nurser. Tucker is no longer a baby, he's no longer a toddler. He grew up into a healthy, loving, crazy, hyper, and smart little boy...and I'd like to think our nursing relationship had a lot to do with that. <3 Goodbye baby Tucker.

Hope

Last night we had a late thanksgiving dinner at my moms house.  I began to feel really nauseas during dinner.  By the time we were ready to decorate the tree, I started having contractions.  I went to the bathroom and noticed I started bleeding more.  I remember sitting in the bathroom hearing everyone laugh in the living room, while I sat in the bathroom sobbing.  I know that everyone in the living room was there supporting me and loving me, but I couldn't help but feel like life was moving on without me.  I had to be reminded of the baby constantly.  There was no escaping the thought, I was the one living it every second.  I was jealous that they got to be distracted.  I took some time for myself in the kitchen and Thomas found me.  We decided to leave early.  I got to see Tucker put up an ornament on the tree for the first time, and then left.  By the time we got home the contractions really started to pick up.  I took a bath and tried to relax.

I went to bed and watched some shows on my computer and then it hit.  My contractions got so intense I was getting flash backs of my labor with Tucker.  I got in the fetal position and started doing the breathing techniques I remember learning for Tucker's birth.  I started watching the clock...5 minutes apart...4 minutes apart...

Thomas kept Tucker in the other room trying to distract him with Elmo so he didn't hear any sounds coming from me in the bedroom.  Thomas made me some dinner and surprisingly I was able to keep some down in between the pains.  Eventually Tucker came in a nursed to sleep next to me.  Thomas sat at the end of the bed rubbing my feet and talking to me while some Blue October and Jack Johnson played in the background.  My contractions got to two minutes apart and stayed that way for about two hours.  Thomas never left my side.  I took some pain killers and it made me sleepy.  We sort of quietly talked about our thoughts, and how we felt the baby needed a name.  We got distracted with the contractions to ever decide though.  Finally, I could feel my body doing what it needed to do.  I knew it was over.  I just sort of collapsed into a sleep.  I was so exhausted, and with the instant pain relief, I just dozed off.

The next morning I felt like a new person.  The pain was gone.  The bleeding was close to nothing.  I decided I didn't want to be in the house dwelling on our baby, so I went to my parents and spent the morning there.  They were really supportive and just let me talk.  Then I went to WIC to report that we lost the baby.  I wanted to talk to the lactation consultant of my concerns of the pains during the miscarriage, and some questions concerning my body and my milk.  They offered me some alone time with her, and she ended up couseling me for about an hour.  She explained that the reason I ended up having to experience something that resembled more of a birth than a miscarriage was because my hormones are still on the mapping of birth.  My body decided to collect what needed to go, and let it go all at once, instead of over the course of the average 7-10 days.  Nursing probably helped it go much faster.  She also helped me figure out what I needed to do next, sort out some of my thoughts and feelings, and taught me more about how my body was working.  She also said that she was praying for me and reassured me that I was doing and feeling everything that I needed to do.

I came home and showered and was thinking about the purpose of this baby.  I don't believe that God would let this baby die with no end result.  There was a lesson to be learned here, and I was determined to learn it.  The woman at the WIC office and I were discussing possible purposes.  I decided there was three.  One...to help other women.  Two... To bring me to my knees.  It had been a while since I have truly been on my knees in prayer asking for God's presence.  Let's face it, I was caught up with life, with being a mom, I am inconsistantly going to church for a few small excuses I have...I had been drifting for a while.  I was praying for this baby, but when I lost the baby, I fell to my knees in prayer, and I needed that.  Even if that was the only purpose for this baby, it was a big purpose.  And three...for hope.  I don't have any idea why I came to that conclusion.  Logically and experience and tragedy like this would probably lead many to the conclusion that there is NO hope left...but I felt the complete opposite.  After I had the delivery of what was left of our baby, I was left with an enormous feeling of hope in my heart.  I text Thomas, who was just getting off work, and I said "let's name her Hope"

When he came home he read my text message and said "Really?  Hope?  I was thinking all day at work about what we should name her and I thought of Hope as well!"  I felt like it was meant to be. 

I said "then Hope it is."

Praying for a rainbow

On December 4th, 2013 we learned we were pregnant.  The excitement was short lived when I woke up this morning having some spotting.  Today, December 7th, we lost our baby.

----> Telling Thomas

I went to the ER and they took my blood to test my HCG and did a sonogram.  The HCG came back a the tiny level of 10.  When they did the ultra sound they couldn't find the baby with an external or internal machine.  When she did the vaginal sonogram, there was blood all over the table.  I asked the lady "does this happen sometimes with the vaginal machine?"  She simply said "sometimes I suppose" and I could see the look on her face that told me she clearly didn't believe a word she said.  I knew right then and there it was over.  She touched my face and wiped my tears and said "I wish this wasn't happening for you" and left.  I felt so empty.

I don't understand why these things happen.  As this is the second baby I've lost, I have begun wondering what is wrong with me.  I know that's not logical, and wont do any good for me...but I can't help it.  I loved the baby already, and I always will.  I know that this too will pass.  I just want this to be over with soon so I can enjoy Christmas with my family.

I'm in a bit of pain.  The cramps are more like mild contractions and my back hurts.  I remember feeling like this in the early stages of Labor with Tucker and let me tell you, it's worse this time.  I remember that pain not being as strong just because I knew I was doing it for an amazing result.  But this time, it's resulting in the death of my baby.  My heart aches everytime I go to the bathroom knowing that I'm just discarding more of my baby...That is the hardest part.  I start to calm down and get distracted...then I go to the bathroom and it starts all over.  I wish that I could just be done with it.  But here we are...back to cycle day 1.  A midwife I was emailing told me I should wait a cycle before we try again.  Thomas wants to wait a couple.  We are taking the next couple of cycles to regroup, get healthy, and continue to prepare for our next baby. 

So here's to trying again and getting our rainbow baby.  <3

"Everyone wants happiness, no one wants pain...but to get a rainbow, you have to have some rain"

------> With My Own Two Hands