Having seen breastfeeding once again taking centre stage in the media, with Pope Francis encouraging nursing mothers to feed in church, I have decided to share my views on the matter. I have called this post 'Breastfeeding Dilemmas' but if I am honest, with my five-month old son, this is not a dilemma for me. It is just something that I do. Often. Anywhere and (mostly) everywhere.
Our NHS does many amazing things every single day. Indeed you might argue just surviving this long as a free-at-the-point-of-use healthcare system as various governments have tinkered around the edges with it is, in itself, a bit of a miracle. But real quality of care, the sort that seems on the face of it to be very basic but in reality is utterly transformative, is rarely mentioned. In this blog I want to remedy that in my own small way.
I'm a woman and a midwife. The two most natural things in the world I failed to do. In those early postnatal days, still adjusting to the sleep deprivation and hormones gone wild I wondered how I could be a good mother when I couldn't even get the basics right. The words 'I'm not good enough' preyed on my mind.
For the first 6 months or so I was pretty much redundant when it came to feeding Littlest View From a Daddy. With Mrs VFAD nursing our newest addition, it meant that I needed to take on other key roles that are essential when a little human arrives in the house: changing nappies, getting the washing sorted, taking charge of the family meals etc.
It's a lot of things to miss about being with M all the time, and I guess it's a kind of grief that I'm experiencing. Mourning my maternity leave. But then, I'm so very grateful, that I have those things to miss. That I have been blessed with the opportunity to be a mummy, and to spend 9 blissful months with my girl.