Fear Makes Companions of Us All

Lately, I’ve been struggling with fear. Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize it when it affected me the most – I misidentified it as anxiety or self-righteous anger. My fear has revolved around two major themes: not being a “good enough” mom to Sprout and not doing enough to “make the world a better place.” My fear around the first issue was most prominent during our Disney trip; the second emerged while I was washing dishes last week as an extended, angry, despairing rant about climate change, poverty and other injustices. Both are always bubbling under the surface. While I don’t believe God manipulates people to send personal messages, I do believe that if people ask, God will open their hearts to help hear what they need to from the noise of everyday life. This past weekend, I had a one-two punch of those messages, leading me to realize that I need to embrace my fears rather than ignoring them.

The first blow came on Saturday night, from a marvelous episode of Doctor Who. Even though it was advertised as a “properly scary” episode, it ended up being something very different indeed. Without spoiling the plot, it was fundamentally about how fear isn’t inherently a bad thing. Fear can make us stronger, quicker, and braver; it can make us super-powered. Fear comes from the knowledge that there are things we do not and perhaps cannot understand, but that’s okay. Whether the monster under the bed is real or not is irrelevant. Fear may be our constant companion, but instead of letting it control us, it can drive us to become better people.

The second hit came the next morning in church. My pastor has been preaching on the Beatitudes and what it means to be a peacemaker in the world. Last Sunday, he preached about how love and peace need to be at the center of our lives. That although we may have fear, we can’t let it drive us. That peace comes from breaking cycles of violence, whether physical or emotional. When we have peace at the core of our being, it acknowledges the pain of others and moves out from us.

The Doctor Who episode deeply connected with me, but I didn’t know why until hearing the sermon. Putting the two together, I realized that by trying to ignore my fear, I was allowing it to overwhelm me. To paraphrase the Martin Luther King Jr. quote on this week’s church bulletin, I was trying to merely drive out darkness instead of bringing light. But there can be no known without an unknown, no comfort without fear, no rebuilding without destruction, and no resurrection without the despair of Good Friday.

By worrying about not being a good enough mom, I don’t give myself the space to make and acknowledge the mistakes that are needed to grow. By being so concerned that I’m not doing enough, I make it all about me and deny the efforts of the folks around me. One of my favorite bloggers, Phil Sandifer, says that progressive causes like feminism involve both tearing down the current systems and making new mistakes in the process. As both a parent and activist, I have to forgive myself and others so that we can all make new mistakes together.

From now on, I will try to embrace my fears, realizing that they’re an outgrowth of how much I love my son and am concerned about the world around me. Instead of being afraid of caring too much, I will try to celebrate it.

Rolling Somewhat Merrily Along

When I started our town’s series of Kidical Mass bike rides for families, I was afraid no one would show up. Now that the summer has wound down and I’ve led four different rides, those fears have mostly been alleviated. But while I’ve had some success, the last two rides have shown that like many activist projects, it’s going to take a lot of hard work to get a big impact. Fortunately, I’ve also had some little wins that give me hope.

Going into this project, I knew that my town’s bicycle culture lagged behind that of D.C. and Arlington. While we struggled to get 10 people for our community rides, they would get hundreds. Rockville has substantially improved its bike infrastructure and policies, but we just haven’t attracted the sheer numbers of cyclists yet. On top of that, getting families to cycle is the toughest nut to crack and suburban parents are notoriously paranoid about safety. This was illustrated quite clearly when the East Falls Church Kidical Mass launch ride (a specific neighborhood in Arlington) had 32 people, while ours had 17, including me, my husband, and the organizers of an existing ride.

On top of not having as much of a cycling culture, my town poses other logistical issues for Kidical Mass rides. Being in the suburbs, businesses are more spread out, making it difficult to find destinations within a few miles of a starting point that are also on quiet streets. From my experience so far, parents expect to drive rather than bike or take transit to the ride, so you need to start and end in the same place, preferably somewhere with good parking. As Rockville has a number of rolling hills that challenge adult cyclists, I usually abandoned the “flat” part of the “short, un-trafficked, flat” routes recommended for Kidical Mass rides.

Knowing all of this, it wasn’t too surprising that we only had one family each for our last two rides. We had some adult helpers on both, so neither group was ridiculously small, but we aren’t attracting the numbers that a ride that has “mass” in its name implies.

Despite the low turnout, certain aspects of each ride were encouraging. On the August ride, I had planned to ride from a local nature center to Rock Creek Park, a lush gem that runs from the heart of D.C. into Montgomery County. But the ride has some serious hills, so my heart sunk when I saw a little girl show up with training wheels. I especially felt bad when I realized she and her mom had showed up for the July ride but she was too scared to even leave the sidewalk. Trying to hide my nervousness, I encouraged her to try the ride and let her know that it was okay to walk the hills. Much to my relief, she defied everyone’s expectations. She made it up many of the hills and wasn’t ashamed of walking up others. The route offered exactly the right blend of achievable and just-out-of-reach challenge. We turned around before we reached the park, but I was so proud that she made it as far as she did. It was such a huge leap up from just a month before. Even though her mom kept saying, “If I had known the route, I would have never brought her!” it was clear that she was glad she did. Even though she was the only kid there, her accomplishment alone made the ride worthwhile.

On the ride this past weekend, I was quite surprised that anyone showed up, considering it was a 50% chance of rain. In fact, I actually left Chris and Sprout at home. But one family with two kids in a trailer and an older lady interested in volunteering both made an appearance. While the dad of the family was an avid cyclist, his wife was much less experienced. She had just gotten a new bike and self-identified as a rather slow cyclist. They had been doing rides around their neighborhood, but this was the first community ride they had done. And despite the rain, she loved it! Afterwards, she promised to sign up for another community ride this weekend as well as future Kidical Mass rides. On top of making it good experience for her, they’re also interested in purchasing a Yuba cargo bike to replace their trailer, which would be an awesome addition to our Kidical Mass rides.

Our next two rides are going to be with our sister ride in nearby Gaithersburg, which has been around for at least a year. I hope that some of their experience rubs off on us!

Guest Post at the Children and Nature Network

I have a guest post over at the Children & Nature Network! Their founder, Richard Louv (author of Last Child in the Woods), read my post on what I want to teach Sprout about nature and asked if I could adapt it for their blog. Obviously, I said yes. Their organization has a great mission – to get more kids into nature – and I’m so glad that I could contribute. I edited the original post quite a bit, so I think it’s still worth reading this one even if you saw the one before.

Go check it out: Valuable Lessons – What I Want to Teach My Son About Nature.

Faire Thee Well

Being a big dork who enjoys dressing up in costume, I love Renaissance Faires. I’ve never been hard core enough to get a season pass, but I’ve attended them on and off since junior high. This past weekend, we attended our local Faire with friends of ours who have a two and a half year old son. While Sprout wasn’t old enough to fully appreciate it, I enjoyed it and I definitely want to bring him back in the future.

Probably my favorite thing about the Renaissance Faire is how it inspires imagination. Despite being set in a pseudo-historical world, there is no question that this is pure fantasy. The Simpsons episode where they visit the Ren Faire (“Behold the mighty Esquilax, a horse with the head of a rabbit…and the body…of a rabbit!”) isn’t all that far off. For goodness sake, they sell corn dog bites and cheesecake on a stick! There’s tremendous value in learning about real history, but the Society for Creative Anachronism this is not.

But in place of actual historical fact, there exists a whimsical space for visitors to fill in themselves. In contrast to Disney (which has incredible world building, but it’s heavily controlled), participants are invited to jointly create a world with the performers. We are the rabble at the foot of Shakespeare’s stage, the lords and ladies in the Queen’s court, and the ordinary folk attending a joust. In fact, if you come in costume, you become a performer and character yourself. It was actually quite difficult to tell the difference at times!

Because of this combination of loose requirements and interactivity, the Renaissance Faire seems open and welcoming as a community. We saw all sorts of costumed attendees, ranging from people wearing custom-made elaborate corsets to a combination of mall-bought clothes that was suggestive of a pirate outfit. Personally, I wore a regular dress in a vaguely Renaissance style and a ridiculous hat. Unlike comic book conventions, where women are often accused of being “fake geek girls” if they don’t meet some vague and arbitrary level of comprehensive knowledge, the Renaissance Faire doesn’t have any set characters or standards. In fact, the booths even had a variety of costumes for sale, so even if you were totally unprepared and wanted to join in the fun, you could.

Similarly, the looseness of the world building means that visitors can remake it in their own image if they want to. So what if girls weren’t knighted at that time? They are here! So what if black and Hispanic people wouldn’t have been heavily represented in the court? They can be here! When fiction may not represent the full variety of fans, these in-person places give everyone the opportunity to step into a fantasy world and make it our own. (This is not to say there aren’t any issues with sexism or racism at Ren Faires, but I personally found it to seem like a more welcome atmosphere.).

In short, I like that I can bring Sprout to a place where imagination is celebrated by adults and all are welcome to participate in the co-creation of this shared world.

Lastly, I actually enjoy the commercial aspect of the Renaissance Faire. Almost all, if not all, of the vendors at our Faire are small producers who make their products themselves. From chain mail to swords to dresses, there was no shortage of beautiful goods. I like dealing directly with small crafters, knowing that they take pride in their products and are getting paid fairly for their efforts. As Sprout gets older, I like him knowing that you can buy toys from places other than the toy store and meet the people who make them.

Fundamentally, the Renaissance Faire is a silly place for adults and children alike to have light-hearted, imaginative fun. And it’s good that such a place exists.

What I Want to Teach my Kid About Nature

Recently, I read two almost antithetical essays about the value and meaning of nature, one in Sierra Magazine and one by an unschooling advocate. While the Sierra Club president went old-school in his defense of wilderness and the need to preserve it, the unschooler said that not only is there no such thing as wilderness, there’s hardly such a thing as nature. As an environmental communicator, I’ve thought a lot about this subject. I also know that I want to pass on a love of the outdoors and ecological values on to my son.

Considering both articles’ points of view, here’s what I want to teach Sprout while we’re out in nature:

1) Nature is beautiful – and so are a lot of other things.
I’m a Christian, so I believe that God shaped the natural world, albeit through evolutionary processes. Personally, I see His/Her fingerprints on every tree leaf and ocean wave. Likewise, I believe many human-made things are beautiful too, from a hand-crafted quilt to a well-planned streetscape. But saying they’re the same thing undermines the uniqueness of each, undervaluing both the complexity of biology and the human eye for artistry.

2) Not everything is nature, but nature can be found in the unlikeliest of places.
Sure, your plastic dinosaur may be made of oil, which was once natural (and even organic, going with the biological definition), but it isn’t nature. Neither is a city sidewalk, as useful as it is. But you can find nature even in places dominated by people – in weeds fuflilling their evolutionary duty of recolonizing disturbed places, hawks nesting in tall buildings, trees rising from city streets, insects pretty much everywhere. Finding and appreciating those places and creatures can help you remember that people are never truly alone – other species are trying to make their way as well.

3) Both Wildness and Wilderness are valuable.
Unlike the popular belief that Thoreau was referring to wilderness, the actual quote is “In Wildness is the preservation of the world.” To me, wildness is that fighting spirit of survival independent of humans that guides evolution and ecological relationships. Even non-living objects maintain their strength and momentum (albeit by physics, not consciousness), with rivers cutting through rock if ypu give them enough time. The wilderness is where that wildness is most evident and human interference is minimal. (With global environmental issues, there is no such thing as a complete lack of intervention, and even in pre-industrialized times, it was very rare) As people, we tend to be preoccupied with our own species, both as individuals and society. Observing wildness on the small scale and wilderness in the large one helps us see the bigger picture, both in terms of geographic and time scales. Comprehending the size of a redwood or understanding the age of a Galapogus turtle puts our concerns into perspective.

4) Nature is dangerous. But instead of being afraid of it, we should be prepared.
Because of that wildness, nature’s citizens don’t care about us. The Disney version of nature is about as real as the Disney version of Paris. While we control nature in many places and ways, it’s never truly tamed. There are some places I find too risky – I’ve never been interested in mountaineering – but you can experience most wild places with a reasonable level of safety as long as you’re smart about it. Being prepared is a good motto for everyone, not just Boy scouts.

5) Everything is interconnected, but also has value on its own.
My undergrad degree specialized in ecology, so I completely appreciagte the vast complexity of the food web and every other type of ecological interaction. But as important as keystone species are, it’s also worth appreciating each plant and animal’s incredible coolness. I’m a big fan of weird bugs and funky plants, even the ones that aren’t big, beautiful, or ecological building blocks.

6) We will never not have an impact. But there are ways we can mimic and work with nature to minimize the negative impact or even have a positive one. There are way too many humans to eliminate our impact, unless someone pulls a Crake (from an excellent series by Margaret Atwood) and unleashes a worldwide virus. But by mimicking and learning from nature’s patterns, we can find new ways to work within ecological systems instead of against them. This is why I love the permaculture movement – it takes as a given that we can combine ecological principles with agriculture to get what both we and the ecosystem needs. The sustainability movement has picked up the ball on this one, helping us better understand how we can build our cities, food system, and transportation networks, ideally in ways that are both environmentally and economically just.

7) Because all humans are part of a larger ecosystem, human health and well-being is tied to those ecosystems’ health.
Even if you don’t give a whit about polar bears or whales, environmental issues are fundamentally human issues. From air pollution to clean water to climate change, our world’s most vulnerable folks are the most negatively affected by environmental problems. They get stuck with dealing with respiratory diseases, high levels of mercury from coal plants, and intensified natural disasters from climate change, because of our unsustainable policies.

8) Just as we can be healed when we’re sick, so can many ecosystems.
While wilderness is wonderful, one of the big problems with the original movement was that it was just about preserving “untouched” places and didn’t have anything to say about places people actually lived. Too much policy treated polluted places like Edward Abbey claims to have – as if you could just litter in them because they were already ruined anyway. Fortunately, thinking has shifted away from this, leading to clean-ups of the Chesapeake Bay, the decanalization of rivers and streams, and the re-wilding of European forests.

9) We have a responsibility to each other to respect and care for those around us, no matter their species.
That really what this whole list comes down to. As many challenges as we face, we as humans are very powerful. And to quote good old Uncle Ben from Spiderman, “With great power comes great responsibility.”

You Don’t Know What You’ve Got Till It Could Be Gone

As a kid, my mom always taught me that I was extremely lucky to have the advantages I had and to be grateful for them. I don’t know if she ever mentioned the word privilege, but she certainly communicated the concept. (For folks not familiar with privilege and the issues associated with it, John Scalzi’s Lowest Difficulty Setting and Being Poor, as well as this comic on intersectionality are a good introduction.) While a stupid mistake I made two years ago hit me over the head with my privelege at the time, a total accident recently did the same thing, reminding me of how fragile financial and social stability really is.

A few weeks ago, Chris started complaining about a toothache. Finally, it got so bad that as much as he hates going to the dentist, he called and was able to get in on the same day. Our church pastor had previously mentioned he was willing to look after Sprout, so Chris was able to rely on him for childcare. As it turned out, it was very fortunate that Chris didn’t bring Sprout to the appointment. While Sprout was watching cartoons and playing with our pastor’s mutt, Chris was undergoing an emergency root canal! The infection was so bad that the dentist said he had to get the surgery that day.

Of course, that appointment wasn’t the end of it – it never is with dentistry. As Chris needed a check-up appointment the next Thursday, I took time off for childcare duties and then worked from home the rest of the day. Chris then needed a second follow-up to fit the crown. As I had just taken time off work, was going to be out of the office at the end of the week, and the appointment was on extremely short notice, I really didn’t want to call in. Unfortunately, our pastor, along with everyone else from church who possibly could have looked after the kid, was traveling. Fortunately, my Mom was kind enough to travel all of the way down from upstate New York to D.C. Even though she’s retired (congrats, Mom!), it’s quite a haul to make on short notice.

Fortunately, everything went well. Mom got to see Sprout walking all over the place, they had some Nana-Sprout alone time, we cleaned out the guest bedroom, I didn’t take off work and Chris was able to get his crown put in. Even if my mom hadn’t driven down, I probably could have called in sick and it would have been fine.

But this happy ending (or as happy as a root canal can be), depended on a number of social and economic privileges Chris and I take for granted. If just one of these was missing, we could have had Very Big Problems. For example:
– If our pastor wasn’t able to take care of Sprout the first time, Chris wouldn’t have been able to get the root canal. By the time he found out he needed it, I wouldn’t have been able to come home before the oral surgeon closed for the day. If he didn’t get the root canal, it’s likely the infection would spread to other parts of his mouth or even beyond, which can be deadly.
– If we didn’t have dental insurance, Chris also couldn’t have had the root canal, with all of the attendant medical issues. Even with insurance, it’s likely that if we were tight on money he wouldn’t have been able to get it. Our insurance only covered a third of it (dental insurance is the worst, except compared to not having it), leaving us with a $1300 bill. In other circumstances, he would have had to choose between falling behind on a bill or him not getting the procedure.
– If he had the root canal, we might not have been able to afford the crown, which was another $500. Without the crown, the canal would be exposed, making it more likely to become reinfected or be vulnerable to other damage.
– Even if we had all of the money set, there was the issue of childcare for both of the follow-up appointments. Luckily, I have a job where I can take a few hours leave on relatively short notice and my mom is awesome. But if I had a service job, taking that time off would have meant that I’d miss a day or two of pay at best or at worst, be fired.

When everything is going well, it’s easy to be frustrated by “First World Problems” like “filled up on bread, didn’t leave any room for tiramisu” to quote Weird Al. In contrast, times of crisis – even minor ones – are when I really understand how lucky I am and how little I really had to do with that. For us, Chris’s dental problems were expensive and painful, but ultimately annoying. But as Scalzi says, “Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.” I support universal health and childcare for everyone because if just a few things had been different, we could have ended up with life-changing consequences.

Riding Along with Kidical Mass

Last weekend, I led our second Kidical Mass Rockville ride and it went great! We started off at the Rockville Swim Center and wandered around the surrounding neighborhood. As a personal bonus, for the first time ever, Sprout smiled while he was in the trailer with his helmet on. Plus, he fell asleep part-way through the ride, meaning that he had least got a bit of a nap in.

Check out my post about the ride, along with a photo of the group, on the Kidical Mass Rockville Blog!

Breastfeeding Week: Open Letter to Advocates Against Covers

I believe in being positive, especially as a parent, but sometimes I get frustrated. I get angry when people are being oppressed, when someone is reinforcing prejudicial societal patterns, or when people are putting others in unnecessary pain. Rather than making Chris listen to me rant (yet again), I’ll write an Open Letter addressing whatever is making me angry.

As you can imagine from this week’s topic, I’m a big supporter of breastfeeding. I truly believe that hospitals, the medical institution in general, and all of society should support breastfeeding moms far more than they do, starting with placing the baby skin-to-skin immediately to accepting women feeding children in public. (Mega props to the Pope for furthering this cause.) I managed to breastfeed my son for a full year and am only now just tapering off. But I do have a reoccurring issue with how some advocates frame the issue of breastfeeding in public. While I appreciate that they don’t want to be shamed for nursing without a cover, I feel hurt by the way they refer to the idea of mothers covering themselves up. Terms like “breastfeeding burqa”, implying that I’m denying my baby fresh air (even though that article is pretty funny), and phrases like “I would never put my baby under a blanket!” make me feel as if I’m not “doing it right” or letting down feminists by wearing a nursing cover. While I think they intend to make nursing a more accepted activity, by denigrating a tool that enables many women to breastfeed who wouldn’t otherwise, I think they could be driving mothers away instead.

Personally, there is no way I would ever be able to breastfeed after a couple of weeks if I didn’t have my nursing cover. I am an extremely modest person; just scheduling the posts this week gives me the shakes. So when I started nursing Sprout in public, I became hyper-aware that people would be thinking about my breasts, even if they couldn’t see them. And that totally freaked me out. I was so nervous that even with the cover, I tried to make myself as invisible as possible. I sat in the back of the church instead of our usual spot; I fed Sprout in the car at an outdoor mall instead of on one of the many benches. There is absolutely no way that I could have started feeding him in public if there was the chance anyone would see my bare boobs, nipple exposed or not. And as any nursing mom knows, you absolutely need to feed your baby in public. Bathrooms are not appropriate places to bring hungry babies. So if it wasn’t for my nursing cover, I would have breastfeed my baby for a drastically shorter period of time. I suspect I’m not the only one in this situation. Now, some advocates would say we should just get over our neuroses and throw off societies’ restrictions. But it’s damn hard enough being a new mom – why add more emotional and social burdens than necessary?

Beyond the modesty issue, I wonder if Sprout himself would be able to eat in public places without the cover. He’s been a very observant, engaged baby since the day he was born. As a result, he’s always been easily distracted while eating. His very first night, I struggled to get him to latch as Chris and I talked. A moment after Chris left the room, he latched on perfectly, his attention no longer split between eating and our conversation. Even if he wasn’t too distracted in public to latch on, he would constantly be breaking his hold, exposing more nipple than a wardrobe malfunction would. He still does this when Chris walks in the room while I’m nursing. Even if I wasn’t quite modest, that would be a whole lot of public nudity and unfortunate leakage.

Beyond my personal experience, assuming people have the social capital to nurse their babies in public without a cover is a privileged position. Women of color and poor women already have huge societal burdens put on them and shouldn’t need to feel even more judgment. People are more likely to feel like they can make disparaging comments to them than a white, middle to upper class woman. Lastly, the consequences of social approbation are likely to be more severe for people who have less power to push back. While a manager of a restaurant or pool may give a more privileged person a warning first, they may go straight to kicking out someone who society already undervalues. Plus, these groups are already less likely to breastfeed, so they should have access to anything that might help them do it.

In general, we need to support breastfeeding moms in whatever way they choose to breastfeed. Shaming women or denigrating blankets or covers only harms new mothers that are trying to do the best for their babies and themselves. There’s enough judgment out there – let’s stand in solidarity in a positive way.

Breastfeeding Week: On Feeding, Formula, and Failure

“This is not a canister of failure.” That’s what my husband said as he held up a brand-new can of baby formula.

I had worked so hard to avoid feeding my son formula. I pumped four times a day on weekdays in addition to nursing him three times a day (morning, evening, middle of the night). I had built up so much supply in the freezer that Chris completely relied on breast milk while I was away on a business trip. I considered the single time my mom fed him 30 ml of formula while we were out to dinner an anomaly.

So when Chris told me that we were down to just a few liters in the freezer, my heart sunk. Although we had gotten through the trip with some supply left, Sprout vastly increased his milk intake the following week. Each day he drank more and more and I simply couldn’t keep up. If I was staying at home and nursing him, my body would have adjusted, but there was no way to pump more than I already was.

I just had to face the facts; Sprout was going to have to drink formula, whether I liked it or not. Coming to terms with this forced me to consider why I was so obsessed with Sprout only drinking breastmilk.

Part of it is that I really do believe breast milk is better than formula. Breast milk is easier to digest than formula, has just the right variety of nutrients and is simply the best food for babies. But I mainly drank formula as a baby due to my mom not getting enough breastfeeding support and I’m fine. Similarly, I would never say to another woman that supplementing breastfeeding with formula is wrong.

Part of it is that I really hate supporting the companies that produce formula. They’ve run huge marketing campaigns in developing countries convincing doctors to provide formula and women not to breastfeed. While breastfeeding is the best everywhere, formula feeding can downright dangerous in developing countries where women may not have access to clean water to mix it or a way to sterilize bottles. In addition, it’s shameful to be telling someone to buy something over a free option when they may not have enough money to both buy it and pay for their other kids to go to school. But as much as I try to avoid it, I still buy plenty of other morally dodgy items (Cascadian Farm cereal, owned by General Mills, jeans from the Gap), so it wasn’t just that.

A lot of my disappointment in needing to supplement came down to simple pride. I was genuinely proud that my body could feed my baby and I believed that through sheer will alone I could produce all the milk he needed. After all, if I just tried hard enough and was just dedicated enough, I could overcome the limitations of the pump and therefore, of returning to my job.

But it simply wasn’t true. I couldn’t force my body to do something it wasn’t suited to do. To feed my child, I needed to set aside my pride.

So Chris started feeding Sprout formula, mixing it with breast milk. And the world didn’t come to an end. Sprout liked the formula just fine and continued to increase his intake, far past what I pumped on even my best days. I kept pumping as much as I could and doing the best job that I could as his mom.

Now that I’m winding down pumping (thank God), feeding him formula and now cow’s milk doesn’t seem like such a big deal. But at the time, admitting that I couldn’t do it all myself was So Damn Hard. But sometimes you just need to accept help, even if it’s from a can.

9 Things I Wish I Had Known About Breastfeeding from the Beginning

9 Things I Wish I Had Known About Breastfeeding.png

I took the breastfeeding classes at the hospital. I read the relevant sections of the pregnancy books. I even practiced positioning with a teddy bear. I was ready for breastfeeding. Or at least I thought I was.

As it turned out, I actually was – I managed to nurse both kids for an entire year. But all of the preparation in the world didn’t teach me some lessons that real life imparted. Much of the literature on breastfeeding goes one of three ways: technical “how to” descriptions, lyrical meditations on its beauty, or warnings about its difficulty. My experience didn’t match any of those. Both times, it was a mix of the painful and easy, the boring and beautiful.

Here are a few things I wish I had known from the beginning:

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