Bio Blurb and Blog Summary: Sarah lives in the mid-west with her husband of four-and-a-half-years and their five-month old baby girl Lucia (Loo-sha) Chamberlin. She has spent the past five months home with her daughter and in one week will return to work as an American Literature teacher to high school juniors. She has been blogging since 2005, but with the introduction of motherhood also came the mommy blog transformation. Joyfullygray captures snipits of everyday life with her family.

Ready or not: Working Mommy it is

In the beginning the days were of sweat pants, breast pads, chills, nursing, more nursing and of shock that the conclusion of my birth story had been written. Yes, just like that, the chapter of my first pregnancy closed. My pregnancy, like the build up to Christmas morning, was gone in a flash. Excitement abound! And then it was over.
In the beginning there were some raging hormones, some baby blues, some highs and lows, some tears and joy. And more chills. Brrr! I was freezing during those early days, and the milk spilling from my chest, while briefly tepid, quickly turned sub-zero, only to make matters far wintrier.

In the beginning there was a constant reality check: my baby was out of my body—my body where she had been safely tucked for the last 41 weeks. Now she was on the outside. On the outside where I had to keep her safe, where I was responsible for her well being, where any diaper rash was a reflection of my poor mothering skills and where scabs on my bleeding nipples and bright red stretch marks were my badge of honor.

In the beginning there was finally a sense of calm, of amazement, shear awe, even bliss. Oh yeah, and that one thing: True Love.

This true love that I encountered brought on occasional thoughts of maternity leave: that it would someday end, that I would someday return to my teaching gig. Admittedly, there were some break downs. Oh yes! Blubbering-cry-like-a-sobbing-lunatic-break-downs.
Breakdowns where I would call my [then] pregnant best friend and scare her to death, making her swear to her husband that she would not be a post-pregnancy mess like me.
And there were more breakdowns where I would call my mother and sob, making her promise me that it would be okay, that everything would be okay.
And more breakdowns where I would make my husband feel like absolute shit because I could not quite yet be a stay at home mom. Where I would make him feel guilt and sorrow about something he could not control. And it was unfair, unfair because he is a good man, a good provider, a smart, hard-working, will-bust-my-ass-for-this-family-kind-of-man.
And one day it ended. It had to end. Self-pity and loathing is no way to live. It was no way to experience life with my new child. The people around me just weren't having it anymore. My mother put her foot down, told me to stop fretting over the future and start enjoying the now.

Enjoying the now, what a novel idea.
And then I put on my big-girl pants and sucked it the hell up.
Thoughts of maternity leave left my brain. I was just living life—an oath to live day by day, enjoying the now, with my little bundle of joy.

The days were of long naps, gazing into each others' eyes, talking and sharing, learning about each other. Good days, full days, the best days—the best days of my life.

That was March—that was March, April, May, June, and July.

March made August feel like a century away.
At least five months away. And that was supposed to be enough time.
But now, as I write, it is August—August and 14 days away from going back to work. And guess what? It was not enough time. But it was our time, our gift that I am ever-so-grateful to have been given.
And, as we mothers know, all sidewalks end, all chapters close and new ones begin.

And so mine is.

After five-months of maternity leave, again, I will be putting on my big girl pants. I will be sucking it up and heading back—back to work. And I consider myself one of the lucky ones—one of the lucky mothers to have had five whole months. No, no more will I have entire days, entire twenty-four hour periods with my child, but I will take what I can get, I will be grateful and I will make every second count.
Lucia and I have had many talks about the impending change. I've told her, with tears rolling down my cheeks, about the things we will be doing differently. I’ve promised her that we will still nap and nurse, still cuddle and giggle—we will make time for our favorite things. I've explained to her that it has to happen because it is what works best for our family financially, it is what helps give her her daily breast milk, it is what helps put money away for her college education, future piano lessons, ballet classes, or whatever her flavor may be. It is what is—and sometimes what is might be a hard pill to swallow.

I tell her these things and she giggles and coos at me, somehow letting me know that she will be all right—somehow telling me that it is me that will hurt and ache inside.
But remember, I am sucking it up. I am putting on my big girl pants and I will rise to the occasion. I will because, like my mother says, I always do.
It helps that my husband is so supportive. He knows what a difficult task lays in front of me. He knows and he cares. He has also told me that I am different now—that I am stronger since pregnancy and child birth, that he knows I can do anything.
He is right.
I am a strong mommy. And I am about to be a strong working mommy. Fortunately for me, I do not work the typical eight to five; and, I have the cushion of autumn, winter, spring and summer breaks. I can enjoy the best of both worlds: work long enough that I yearn to stay at home with my daughter, and be home long enough that I need to get out a bit. Lucia too will have the best of both worlds: some socialization with other young children and lots of mommy time as well.
I plan to continue breastfeeding when I return to the grind. The pump and I are not yet too great of friends, but we are working on our relationship. I try to spend time with her once a day, providing bottles of thick goodness for daddy to give Lucia from time to time. I’ll admit, it has been difficult working the pump into my full-time nursing schedule, but I've felt the need to stock-pile my milk. I know when I am away from baby, pumping will be more of a necessity, so I am hoping my relationship with the good old Medela will flourish. I am sure it will, because just like myself, my boobs will too rise to the occasion.
I’ve also come to realize that with my return to work, the house may not always be perfect, which is something my OCD self will have to face. Saturdays will not be entirely dedicated to cleaning because it will not be the most important thing. Full days at home with Lucia will be a luxury and thou shall not waste. Organization will be of the essence, the completion of small-tasks a miracle. And, then, fortunately for our household, my husband has been doing our laundry since day one, so there will always be clean skivvies and fresh towels. He also likes to cook, lucky us! We will be a unit. Our chores completed with a tag-team effort. I take on the toilet; he’ll take on the dog hair. Scratch that. We will go for a walk with our family, venture to the park or read a story together. Because life won't wait, it will fly by like these months already have. We will rise to the occasion and meet life face to face! Forgo the scrubbing mandates!
Another something that has helped ease my aching working mommy heart is that I found a wonderful caregiver. I interviewed many home daycare providers and visited many centers as well. Nothing floated my boat. Until one day, I saw her, I met the children she cared for, I watched her work all morning, and I knew—I just knew she was the one. It was that gut feeling, my maternal instinct rising to the occasion.
Learning the ropes of being a working mom will not be easy, but at this time it is necessary. And we, my family and I, will make it work—we will rise to the occasion.

Stay tuned.

What is one of the single most divisive parenting issues you can think of?

The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends infants be exclusively breastfed for the first 6 months of life and continue to be breastfed while being offered complementary foods to two years of age and beyond. But in 2003 in the US only 14.2% of 6 month olds were still being exclusively breastfed. Naturally lactivists cite these recommendations and statistics quite often in the quest to increase those numbers.

Imagine having this information, knowing all the amazing benefits of breastfeeding (for babies and mamas), and making plans to breastfeed only to have those plans completely fall apart. Now imagine trying to deal with the frustration and disappointment that would cause all the while wondering if other moms are criticising you behind your back for “giving up when the going got tough.”

I’m one of those lucky moms who have a relatively easy time breastfeeding. There were some horribly painful latch issues in the early days. But we worked through them and things are smooth sailing now. I’m also a big advocate of exclusive breastfeeding. But lately I’ve found myself frustrated by the way breastfeeding moms and formula feeding moms interact. It seems some nursing moms think the formula moms gave up too easily. They blame the moms for breastfeeding failure and harbor feelings of superiority. While some of the formula moms think the nursing moms are “breastfeeding Nazis” {an extremely offensive term}, or that they’re simply making too big a deal about the whole issue.

This has got to stop.

It’s my belief that most moms who don’t succeed in nursing their babes are not to blame. Are there moms who never even try, or who give up for really selfish reasons? Well, sure. There probably are. But there are also moms who don’t use car seats or who leave their babies in hot cars. That doesn’t mean they’re the norm. So if the moms aren’t to blame, who is?

Society.

What do I mean? Or, rather, who do I mean when I say society? I mean doctors, nurses, businesses, even lactation consultants! I mean everybody {yes you, and yes me}! See, here’s the thing. Breastfeeding is natural. But that doesn’t mean it comes naturally. It has to be learned. Moms (and sometimes babies) need help figuring out the mechanics of it as well as needing the right information and support.

I’ve discussed the factors leading to breastfeeding failure with a lot of moms. And I’m horrified by the accounts of doctors, nurses, and lactation consultants who dish out information that it just plain wrong, information that contributes to problems instead of solving them. How many of us mothers have been told we need to feed our babes for a certain amount of time on one breast then switch to the other? The nurses at the hospital tried to tell me to do that. Trying to follow their instructions nearly drove our family crazy. But I was lucky enough to read the right materials and learn otherwise. Babes should be given an opportunity to empty one side and get all the rich, fat hind milk. Then, if they’re still hungry, they should be given the other side. Babes who are limited in time on each side may not gain weight at the expected rate, leading moms and doctors to the false conclusion that mom’s milk isn’t rich enough which leads to the go-to advice to supplement with formula. Some hospitals and doctor’s offices even dispense formula samples to new moms when they’d be better served by a free copy of The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding.

But misinformation isn’t the only hurdle moms face, lack of support can be just as detrimental. There are two forms of support I think every mom needs, practical and emotional. Practical support comes from dads, family and friends. It can be anything from fetching a glass of water while mom is nursing to loaning out your best breastfeeding book to a new mom or sharing your favorite web resources. Emotional support comes largely from friends and family but really needs to come from everybody. Nursing moms, especially those who are struggling, need encouragement (even a thumbs up from a stranger can lift a mom’s spirits) and acceptance. In other words we need to stop bickering about whether moms should cover or not cover when in public and focus on supporting them now matter how they choose to breastfeed.

So why are we divided? I think part of it is that sometimes we lactivists (myself included) forget that breastfeeding moms face a lot of hurdles aside from the physical setbacks (such as inverted nipples, thrush, etc.). I’m here to ask that we keep that in mind and refrain from harsh judgements. But I might also ask moms who did not have success and switched to formula to keep in mind that when lactivists proclaim the benefits of nursing we aren’t trying to make you feel bad. We’re just trying to convince future moms to give breastfeeding a go, a goal I think we can all get behind. But as long as both sides view breastfeeding as an issue that divides us instead of an issue we can face together we will be too busy fighting in the mommy wars to ever make a positive change. Love certainly isn’t all we need to increase the number of breastfeeding successes but it’s certainly something we can’t do without.

As always, feel free to share how you feel in the comments!