the F word

The dreaded F word.  I did it.  I gave in to the pressure from the doctor, Pete and the growth charts and agreed to give Noah some supplemented formula.  Even though the diehard breastfeeding women out there said not to do it, I did it anyway.  And?  Noah survived.

It has been a mentally draining last two weeks and I’ve cried one too many tears over this.  I was obsessed with not giving Noah formula (it’s so artificial and not nearly as good as breast milk; will he start to prefer the bottle over breast?; will my milk supply drop? will he be able to digest the new stuff as well?) and Pete and I were fighting tooth and nail about this for too many days.

Just when I was beginning to come around to the idea of giving Noah an extra couple of ounces of formula a couple times a day, Pete told me he threw the formula out.  He was done fighting and told me that if we added formula to Noah’s diet it would be my decision – he wasn’t going to push the issue anymore.  When I got upset about that, I realized that I had actually been sort of relieved having the formula in the house if for no reason other than it was there should anything happen to my milk supply.  I went to the store the very next morning to buy the formula again.

Fact is, formula isn’t poison – I know it won’t kill Noah.  It has taken me a couple weeks to come to terms with that, but I am finally there.  And now?  Instead of going crazy pumping 4-5 times a day on top of nursing 7-8 times a day just to bank enough breast milk to fill his nightly 5 oz bottle, I can do 50/50 formula/breast milk and have multiple bottles on hand, and maybe even start to freeze some breast milk for future use!  If Noah gains some weight at the end of the day, even better (if he gains too much weight I’ll have to change the name of this blog!).  He’s already slept longer at night with some added formula in his bottle so at least there’s that!  To all the breastfeeding maniacs out there that make mothers feel guilty for giving their child formula, I say this: “F you!”