I have a fever

For those of you following along on this little journey, here is an update.

I have a fever, but I’m also freezing, nauseous, dizzy, feel weak, and my breasts are super painful. Like, “accidentally touch and in tears painful”.

You would think I have the flu or that I was pregnant again! (I’m not, I took a test to be sure) It definitely had me wondering, “Is this normal?”.

Upon some internet researching I found out that these are apparently normal symptoms when you stop breastfeeding. Its a hormonal shift?! You would think I would have realized this after going through the major hormonal shift post birth. I was HOT, all the time. Full on night sweats, where I drenched my nightgown. Nothing helped to cool me down, and I took a lot of cool showers to help.

Our bodies are wonderful and weird things. We were able to create human life, bring a baby into this world. And she is so wonderful, so happy, and so smart. I constantly ask my husband if other babies are this smart. She a joy to have.

Mothers everywhere deserve a huge hug, and I don’t know… a million dollars?! We put our body through so much during pregnancy, birth, and postpartum. And on top of the physical strain, there is not a lot of knowledge out there about this stuff. It really feels “learn as you go.” I am absolutely not complaining about what I went through to have my baby.

We tried for eight long years to conceive, and I am grateful for every minute of it to have our girl. Pregnancy had it hard moments, but there was a solution for every symptom. From the morning sickness, to sciatica, and swollen limbs. I had it all, and managed to find ways to help myself cope with them. I loved being pregnant despite these things.

I wish breastfeeding had been the same experience for me. I am a problem solver. It is pretty discouraging when you’re given a problem that there is not a solution for. At least not that worked for my body personally. I think that has been the most emotionally draining part for me. Trying to come to terms with the fact that it didn’t work for me, and that has to be okay. It’s not my fault. I tried, and I tried, and I tried again until I was actually miserable.

Those close to me keep telling me that it’s okay. That I am still a great mother, and my mental health needs to be number one so I can be one hundred percent for my baby. I hear them. I’m sure I have given the same advice to others in the past.

So why is there this guilt?

Perhaps as mothers, and wives we put too much pressure on ourselves. We have these expectations of ourselves, and then society gives us more expectations. We have all these voices telling us who we ought to be, what our life should look like, and for what? It doesn’t make sense for us to drive ourselves into the ground to meet all of these ridiculous expectations.

Somewhere along the way, while chasing expectations we seem to forget what really matters. Are you happy? Are your kids happy?

What is most important to me is giving my children a non-traumatic childhood. For my daughter to be able to live her life without worrying about bills, or her next meal. I don’t want my child to have to work to help us with the bills. I don’t want her main source of food to be from the school cafeteria.

Those things are way more important to me than whether she was breastfed for a year or not. I managed to breastfeed for 3.5 months, and that is awesome. I’m grateful I was able to do it for that long, because at the time I felt it was what was best for her. Now, what is best is that she is continued to be nourished, and is fed. That was important all along, but now its more clear to me that what she eats doesn’t matter. There is no award or medal for breastfeeding your kids. There is no competition that decides if you’re a good mom or not. Those things only exist if you create them.

Like how I felt so weirdly proud of myself for being able to answer “Yes! I am breastfeeding.” As if this somehow told others that I was a good mom for doing it. And now, that I’ve made the choice to stop it automatically feels like I’m a bad mom. And now I am absolutely dreading the questions about it. But why does it matter? Why am I having this anxiety over this? I even felt nervous about just discussing it with my husband, because I thought he would be mad at me for it. He wasn’t. He told me that he supported me, and she would be fine. So why am I dreading conversations with others? Because of some weird societal expectation that demands mothers breastfeed to be a good mom, but also makes it extremely difficult to do so? I mean, that could be a whole post in itself.

I really want to encourage women to support other women. Life is hard. It is so damn hard without all the judgement from each other. The shaming has got to stop. Every single one of us is different. We all have different views, different opinions, and different ways of doing things. We need to start understanding that we all do what we think is best for our own lives, and our kids lives and that is okay!

It is so easy to get wrapped up in the idea that what you think is best, but it is only what is best for you personally. Some women love breastfeeding, and don’t struggle with it, and do it for years! Others like me, hated it, and struggled on a constant daily basis, and had to stop. I chose to do what I needed to in order to survive and be the best for my child. That’s what matters.

I would like to close todays update with this: The more we support other women, the better things will be for our daughters in the future. But we can’t get there if we don’t start making it happen in ourselves, today.

Until next time,

Taylor – xoxo