Another day and another study has been conducted which suggests babies that are breastfed for four or more months are less likely to develop behavioural problems.
The 'Millenium Cohort Study' looked at the feeding habits of 10,037 mothers and their babies. They were asked to assess the problems in their children by the time they reached the age of five including lying, stealing and clinginess. Only 6% of breastfed children showed some of these traits, compared to 16% of formula fed babies.
Mothers who breastfeed tend to be older ladies from a higher socio-economic background and are more highly educated. But even after adjusting their research to take this into account they still found a 30% increased risk of behavioral problems in breastfed babies.
I have been exclusively breastfeeding Mads who is now 19 weeks old and I have written before about the struggles I have had with nursing her. It most certainly hasn't been easy but for a number of reasons I was determined to continue. However I was lucky that I found a wonderful breastfeeding councillor and had great support from my Mum and Mr E.
However I can't help but wonder what affect these kind of studies have on those who would like to breastfed but can't for whatever reason, and how it makes them feel,
A friend of mine with a baby the same age as Mads got severe post natal depression and had to stop breastfeeding because of the anti-depressant medication she was on. Out of a group of eight of us she is the only one to be formula feeding and she often says she feels like she has to justify to others why she gave up. Another friend of mine whose baby is a little older says she feels guilty every time someone mentions breastfeeding and often wishes she tried harder to carry on. Am I the only one who thinks that women should not be made to feel guilty for their choices?
What about women who don't have the support available like I did? The first two weeks every time Mads latched on I cried in agony and the only reason I carried on to start with is because my Mum and Mr E helped me by hiring me a hospital grade breast pump and holding my hand while she latched on. They even massaged my breasts for me when I got mastitis because I couldn't do it myself. What about ladies who don't have this support? Surely studies like this actively promoting 'breast is best' often make people feel terrible for the choices they have made.
While I do agree that we should be encouraging women to breastfeed as it is proven that it is a very healthy choice for babies, I do think that studies like this unfortunately make women who have been unable to or who have chosen not to, feel guilty or pressurised.
I was formula fed from birth and my sister was breastfed and there has always been a joke in my family that she is the 'naughty' one. I had no behavioural problems growing up and have no allergies or health problems except slight hay fever. I know that we are just one family, but I just think every time a new study comes out actively promoting the benefits of breastfeeding we should think of those women, like my friend, who decided not to breastfeed, or my other friend who physically couldn't, who will unnecessarily be feeling guilty about the new findings in research.
To read the full news story go to BBC News
Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
Monday, 9 May 2011
My 'fake' chest and my first night out!
So this weekend had a lot of firsts for me.
1. The first time I was away from Mads for more than a couple of hours.
2. The first time I have been out drinking properly in about a year.
3. The first time I dressed as a ladybird.
4. And the first time someone asked me if my boobs were real or fake.
This weekend I went to Manchester for my friend's hen do. If I am perfectly honest I was absolutely dreading it for a number of reasons, the main one being the complications with breastfeeding. Luckily Mr E's parents live near Manchester so he travelled up with Mads and went to his Mum's so at least they were both close by. I was originally due to be staying the night with the other hen's but decided that I would rather go back to his Mum's later on at around 12am. I was so nervous about the lack of breastfeeding as I was away from Mads most of the day and the night.
I had expressed a lot of milk for her throughout the week so I wasn't worried about this but I was concerned about how my boobs were going to cope with her not feeding off them for a long time. The breast pump I use is a hospital grade electric monster so I didn't feel comfortable bringing that with me. I therefore bought a rubbish, cheap manual pump to use.
We went to an 80's dance lesson and ouch they were hurting as I was bobbing around to Flashdance and Fame. (Badly I might add- I have the rhythm of a dying wasp) We then got home and while we were all getting ready to go out I sat on the bed and attached myself to this manual pump. It took about half an hour to get even an ounce from one side, it was just awful and by the end of doing it my hand was hurting rather a lot. We then got dressed in our ladybird outfits and played some drinking games and therefore I didn't have chance to express again, so armed with spare breast pads (oh the glamour!) off out I went.
It wasn't long before I started to notice that my breasts were causing a bit of a stir. (And that wasn't just me being self confident because I had a few Vodka and Oranges in me!) Lots of sleazy, drunken men were having a sneaky peek at my red and black ladybird chest. Now I have never been as flat as a pancake but this new found attention was rather out of the blue and alarming.
Myself and two other girls were sat down in one bar when a guy from a stag do asked to take a photo of us. Being rather tipsy by this point we didn't protest but just smiled awkwardly at the camera before we realised that it wasn't being pointed at the three of us at all, the cheeky sod was pointing it directly at my boobs. My friend shrieked at him and asked him what he was doing. He just laughed and said that him and his friends were wondering if they were fake or real. Even in my drunken state, I have never been so embarrassed in my life and my cheeks went as red as my ladybird outfit.
However the whole situation became even more mortifying when my friend turned to the guy and said 'No they are not fake, they are full of milk to feed her baby thank you very much.' At that point if the ground had opened up, I would have happily jumped inside. Needless to say the man couldn't have run away quick enough.
Mr E came to pick me up around midnight and by the time he arrived, my breasts were painful, swollen, rock hard and could have easily given Pamela Anderson a run for her money. Not only that but they were so veiny! Not a good look at all, and when I got back to his mum's I had to express for ages. And let me tell you, operating a breast pump while drunk is not easy at all!
All in all, embarrassing incidents aside, I had a great time. It was nice to let my hair down and feel like I was back in the old days again. However I also realised that I am no longer as confident as I was. I have never been particularly confident about the way I look but I felt really self conscious in my outfit and look back at the photos that were taken and cringe. I really don't like my post pregnancy figure. However my body brought me Mads and I missed her like crazy, even for a short time. Going out made going home to her even better.
On the plus side as well, I now have a very cheap night out. A couple of glasses is more than enough for me! And I am proud I survived another feeding milestone!!
1. The first time I was away from Mads for more than a couple of hours.
2. The first time I have been out drinking properly in about a year.
3. The first time I dressed as a ladybird.
4. And the first time someone asked me if my boobs were real or fake.
This weekend I went to Manchester for my friend's hen do. If I am perfectly honest I was absolutely dreading it for a number of reasons, the main one being the complications with breastfeeding. Luckily Mr E's parents live near Manchester so he travelled up with Mads and went to his Mum's so at least they were both close by. I was originally due to be staying the night with the other hen's but decided that I would rather go back to his Mum's later on at around 12am. I was so nervous about the lack of breastfeeding as I was away from Mads most of the day and the night.
I had expressed a lot of milk for her throughout the week so I wasn't worried about this but I was concerned about how my boobs were going to cope with her not feeding off them for a long time. The breast pump I use is a hospital grade electric monster so I didn't feel comfortable bringing that with me. I therefore bought a rubbish, cheap manual pump to use.
We went to an 80's dance lesson and ouch they were hurting as I was bobbing around to Flashdance and Fame. (Badly I might add- I have the rhythm of a dying wasp) We then got home and while we were all getting ready to go out I sat on the bed and attached myself to this manual pump. It took about half an hour to get even an ounce from one side, it was just awful and by the end of doing it my hand was hurting rather a lot. We then got dressed in our ladybird outfits and played some drinking games and therefore I didn't have chance to express again, so armed with spare breast pads (oh the glamour!) off out I went.
It wasn't long before I started to notice that my breasts were causing a bit of a stir. (And that wasn't just me being self confident because I had a few Vodka and Oranges in me!) Lots of sleazy, drunken men were having a sneaky peek at my red and black ladybird chest. Now I have never been as flat as a pancake but this new found attention was rather out of the blue and alarming.
Myself and two other girls were sat down in one bar when a guy from a stag do asked to take a photo of us. Being rather tipsy by this point we didn't protest but just smiled awkwardly at the camera before we realised that it wasn't being pointed at the three of us at all, the cheeky sod was pointing it directly at my boobs. My friend shrieked at him and asked him what he was doing. He just laughed and said that him and his friends were wondering if they were fake or real. Even in my drunken state, I have never been so embarrassed in my life and my cheeks went as red as my ladybird outfit.
However the whole situation became even more mortifying when my friend turned to the guy and said 'No they are not fake, they are full of milk to feed her baby thank you very much.' At that point if the ground had opened up, I would have happily jumped inside. Needless to say the man couldn't have run away quick enough.
Mr E came to pick me up around midnight and by the time he arrived, my breasts were painful, swollen, rock hard and could have easily given Pamela Anderson a run for her money. Not only that but they were so veiny! Not a good look at all, and when I got back to his mum's I had to express for ages. And let me tell you, operating a breast pump while drunk is not easy at all!
All in all, embarrassing incidents aside, I had a great time. It was nice to let my hair down and feel like I was back in the old days again. However I also realised that I am no longer as confident as I was. I have never been particularly confident about the way I look but I felt really self conscious in my outfit and look back at the photos that were taken and cringe. I really don't like my post pregnancy figure. However my body brought me Mads and I missed her like crazy, even for a short time. Going out made going home to her even better.
On the plus side as well, I now have a very cheap night out. A couple of glasses is more than enough for me! And I am proud I survived another feeding milestone!!
Sunday, 8 May 2011
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
A little leak...breastfeeding problem!
We have all heard the horror stories. The dreaded 'leaking in public.' A thought that scares even the most hardened of breast feeding mums. And it happened to me. Yesterday in fact.
The weather has been so beautiful recently and it has really got me in a fashion dilemma. I have lots of beautiful floaty summer tops and dresses (perfect for hiding the still look three month's pregnant tummy) but unfortunately there is one problem. My bras. Being a breast feeder I have to wear mammoth strapped, passion killer bras with the added turn on of breast pads. Not only does it ruin any 'heat of the moment' action, it also plays havoc with my summer wardrobe. In short I can not find any pretty clothes that cover these monstrosities.
Back to yesterday. We were going on a family day out to the races. The weather was glorious and I decided that just once I was going to rebel against my ugly friends. I was going to wear a pretty summer top and wear a strapless bra. Shock horror. With under wire. Having suffered from mastitis five times during the course of nursing my daughter, once because my bra was too tight, this was no mean feat.
Anyway I donned my outfit and felt pretty special let me tell you. I was a yummy mummy. Added with some tight skinny jeans, high heeled wedges and the floaty top to cover my bulge, I didn't scrub up too bad for someone who has just had a baby. (Well four months ago but whose counting?)
We arrived at the races and everywhere you looked there were gorgeous, glamorous ladies in dresses and looking as orange as David Dickinson in the summer. But I felt OK. I may not be the epitome of glamour but I was looking alright.
The friends we were with bought champagne and I sipped on my one and a half glasses that the health visitor advised me was OK. Mads was in a pretty dress and being as good as gold and we were having a lovely day.
Fast forward a few hours. We were half way through the day when my boobies began to hurt. As in throb. And go red hot. I know the early signs now and when I felt them they had lumps. My dreaded friend beginning with M wanted to make a comeback. (That's Mastitis not Mads!) I panicked and in a moment of madness decided that the best thing to do would be to remove my bra. It was my fault for being vain and now my boobs had decided to punish me.
Nipping to the disabled toilet (with my Mum might I add, who had had a few more glasses of champagne than I had, and thought she could be of use) I removed my bra. Unfortunately the pretty, floaty summer top was also rather see through and you could see my nipples through it. My Mum lent me her pashmina and I shoved some tissue down there to stop any leakages. As you could see the tissue through it I had to make sure the pashmina was covering me at all times.
All was fine for a while and no one noticed a thing. I was on the home straight with only a few races to go.
It was the last race of the day and we were all stood amongst the crowd waiting for the horses to start. I felt a wet patch and thought at first someone was dripping their drink on me as it was busy. But no it wasn't. My right breast had decided to leak through the tissue, through my top and through the pashmina. And not just a little bit, a lot. Luckily everyone was too engrossed in the last race to notice me but I did notice a few people glancing my direction.
I am going to start weaning Mads soon and slowly I will start to wean her off me and on to follow on milk. Hopefully just in time for when summer actually begins!
The weather has been so beautiful recently and it has really got me in a fashion dilemma. I have lots of beautiful floaty summer tops and dresses (perfect for hiding the still look three month's pregnant tummy) but unfortunately there is one problem. My bras. Being a breast feeder I have to wear mammoth strapped, passion killer bras with the added turn on of breast pads. Not only does it ruin any 'heat of the moment' action, it also plays havoc with my summer wardrobe. In short I can not find any pretty clothes that cover these monstrosities.
Back to yesterday. We were going on a family day out to the races. The weather was glorious and I decided that just once I was going to rebel against my ugly friends. I was going to wear a pretty summer top and wear a strapless bra. Shock horror. With under wire. Having suffered from mastitis five times during the course of nursing my daughter, once because my bra was too tight, this was no mean feat.
Anyway I donned my outfit and felt pretty special let me tell you. I was a yummy mummy. Added with some tight skinny jeans, high heeled wedges and the floaty top to cover my bulge, I didn't scrub up too bad for someone who has just had a baby. (Well four months ago but whose counting?)
We arrived at the races and everywhere you looked there were gorgeous, glamorous ladies in dresses and looking as orange as David Dickinson in the summer. But I felt OK. I may not be the epitome of glamour but I was looking alright.
The friends we were with bought champagne and I sipped on my one and a half glasses that the health visitor advised me was OK. Mads was in a pretty dress and being as good as gold and we were having a lovely day.
Fast forward a few hours. We were half way through the day when my boobies began to hurt. As in throb. And go red hot. I know the early signs now and when I felt them they had lumps. My dreaded friend beginning with M wanted to make a comeback. (That's Mastitis not Mads!) I panicked and in a moment of madness decided that the best thing to do would be to remove my bra. It was my fault for being vain and now my boobs had decided to punish me.
Nipping to the disabled toilet (with my Mum might I add, who had had a few more glasses of champagne than I had, and thought she could be of use) I removed my bra. Unfortunately the pretty, floaty summer top was also rather see through and you could see my nipples through it. My Mum lent me her pashmina and I shoved some tissue down there to stop any leakages. As you could see the tissue through it I had to make sure the pashmina was covering me at all times.
All was fine for a while and no one noticed a thing. I was on the home straight with only a few races to go.
It was the last race of the day and we were all stood amongst the crowd waiting for the horses to start. I felt a wet patch and thought at first someone was dripping their drink on me as it was busy. But no it wasn't. My right breast had decided to leak through the tissue, through my top and through the pashmina. And not just a little bit, a lot. Luckily everyone was too engrossed in the last race to notice me but I did notice a few people glancing my direction.
I am going to start weaning Mads soon and slowly I will start to wean her off me and on to follow on milk. Hopefully just in time for when summer actually begins!
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
My breast feeding experience...
Being new to the blogging world, I have been looking all night at lots of inspirational blogs and posts. One that really caught my eye due to my current situation is a post on breastfeeding that has been written over at Mummy Loves... and this has inspired me to blog about my own breastfeeding experience.
Mads is currently thirteen weeks and I have been breast feeding exclusively since she was born. She was born by c-section and at the hospital, although the midwives were all brilliant, I found it very difficult to latch her on due to being sore. To make matters worse I hated hospital so discharged myself after just one night, when I really should have stayed in longer.
The first week was awful. I can honestly say I have never been in so much pain. I remember feeling like a pihareana was chomping on my nipple everytime Mads latched on. I had done NCT antenatal classes and during them they told us that if we were doing it right it wouldn't hurt. (Since then all the mothers in my class have admitted it hurt them too- I am not sure if we were all doing it wrong?)
The pain did get less intense over time- especially after slathering on tons of Lansinoh cream and after a while it didn't hurt at all. The cream was my lifesaver!
However then we hit our next obstacle! I developed such bad mastitis that myself and Mads had to go back into hospital where we both were on antibiotics and drips. However we still carried on feeding as I wanted to do it more than anything.
After this episode Mads completely rejected my left breast, and to this day still only feeds off the right one. (She is a fussy little madam even at 13 weeks!) so I have to constantly express off the left hand side which is very time consuming and frustrating! I have developed mastitis in that side four times now, each time making me so close to giving up.
Yet I am still breast feeding.
Because for all those setbacks it is something I set my heart on doing, and something which truly makes me feel good. I love the fact I am giving my daughter a great start in life, and I love the feeling of closeness I get when we are snuggled up together before she goes to sleep.
Yes it does hurt to start with, but once you have got used too it, it is a lovely experience. And best of all it's free!
There will be people out there who decide not to breastfeed, and there will be people out there who try it and for whatever reason can't continue, and they shouldn't be made to feel guilty for not continuing, it is our choice as mummy's.
However I can truly say that it is one of the most rewarding things I have ever done!
Mads is currently thirteen weeks and I have been breast feeding exclusively since she was born. She was born by c-section and at the hospital, although the midwives were all brilliant, I found it very difficult to latch her on due to being sore. To make matters worse I hated hospital so discharged myself after just one night, when I really should have stayed in longer.
The first week was awful. I can honestly say I have never been in so much pain. I remember feeling like a pihareana was chomping on my nipple everytime Mads latched on. I had done NCT antenatal classes and during them they told us that if we were doing it right it wouldn't hurt. (Since then all the mothers in my class have admitted it hurt them too- I am not sure if we were all doing it wrong?)
The pain did get less intense over time- especially after slathering on tons of Lansinoh cream and after a while it didn't hurt at all. The cream was my lifesaver!
However then we hit our next obstacle! I developed such bad mastitis that myself and Mads had to go back into hospital where we both were on antibiotics and drips. However we still carried on feeding as I wanted to do it more than anything.
After this episode Mads completely rejected my left breast, and to this day still only feeds off the right one. (She is a fussy little madam even at 13 weeks!) so I have to constantly express off the left hand side which is very time consuming and frustrating! I have developed mastitis in that side four times now, each time making me so close to giving up.
Yet I am still breast feeding.
Because for all those setbacks it is something I set my heart on doing, and something which truly makes me feel good. I love the fact I am giving my daughter a great start in life, and I love the feeling of closeness I get when we are snuggled up together before she goes to sleep.
Yes it does hurt to start with, but once you have got used too it, it is a lovely experience. And best of all it's free!
There will be people out there who decide not to breastfeed, and there will be people out there who try it and for whatever reason can't continue, and they shouldn't be made to feel guilty for not continuing, it is our choice as mummy's.
However I can truly say that it is one of the most rewarding things I have ever done!
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