Tag Archives: Grandma

You’ve Given Me Roots

I was inspired by a recent Breastfeeding Cafe post by Timbra at Bosoms and Babes to write this post. I decided the day my mom gave birth to me would be the perfect day to post this. If/when you read this mom, please don’t call me crying or anything. :-P

Dear Mom,

For some reason, our society views it as something awful to become like your mother. I won’t lie, at times I’ll do something random that reminds me so much of you that I feel horrified. I think that happens to every woman though. You do something that is so “your mother” that you begin to wonder if you really are your own person.

The majority of the time though, I aspire to be like you—but I’m sure that part is old news to you. I’ve been trying to be you for as long as I can remember. At times, I think I’ve gone a little overboard. It’s taken me a long time to find out who I really am. It took me becoming a mother myself.

Even in being a mother myself, you’ve given me the roots to get started. For as long as I can remember, I knew that you gave birth to me and my brother naturally and that you breastfed us. When I was pregnant, it was just accepted in my head that I would do the same. My heroic mother gave birth to me naturally even though she had pitocin—I should be able to do the same.

Me becoming a mother has even opened a new window of conversation for us where I learned that you also co-slept. I also learned that you didn’t breastfeed me for as long as you would have liked to. I learned that my pediatrician told you it was your breast milk that was making me spit up so much and so he told you to switch to formula. I learned how much that hurt you to stop and that it didn’t really even help my reflux by switching to formula.

That knowledge helped me when I, too, had a refluxy baby. It also helped me to figure out that I’m allowed to question my doctors. Both of these things gave me the roots that branched off into other attachment parenting things. They helped me make informed decisions like selective vaccination even though the American Academy of Pediatrics acts like you’re evil if you don’t do all the vaccinations and do them on time. It helped me to decide to keep co-sleeping even though our pediatrician recommended against it when Peanut turned one.

Sometimes I worry that I make you feel bad when I’m talking about breastfeeding versus formula feeding. I want you to know that I am never judging you (or any other mom who has formula fed for that matter). I want you to know that I’m telling you this information as a comrade-in-arms—which is exactly what I view you as. You are a fellow breastfeeder. You are my best friend. Both of which mean that I’m probably going to talk your ear off about breastfeeding statistics.

I want you to know that you did the best you could with what you had—in all facets of parenting. I know you sometimes worry about whether or not you were a good mother at times, but I want you to know you don’t need to worry. I hope that if I’m even in similar situations that I will be able to handle them with the strength that you did and actually come out the other side better for it. I know that you loved me as much as a mother could and that you still do. That’s what really matters.

I love that you’re one of the few people who has never questioned my parenting choices. I love that you’re such a great Mema—even if you do give Peanut a little too much cookies and TV time. I love that Peanut is so excited to see you that she squeals. I love how strong our relationship has always been and continues to be.

I love you Mom.

The Best Start Possible

Welcome to The Breastfeeding Cafe Carnival!

This post was written as part of The Breastfeeding Cafe’s Carnival. For more info on the Breastfeeding Cafe, go to www.breastfeedingcafe.wordpress.com. For more info on the Carnival or if you want to participate, contact Claire at clindstrom2 {at} gmail {dot} com. Today’s post is things we’d like to share with our nurslings about what it means for us to breastfeed. Please read the other blogs in today’s carnival listed below and check back for more posts July 18th through the 31st! 

 
Breastfeeding you is just the beginning, but it’s the best start I can give you.

As you grow older, breastfeeding will become just one of the many parts of your life. More important things will happen in your life. Breastfeeding will fall into the background. Breastfeeding will not be something you think about every day as you do now. Breastfeeding will be part of what made you, but no longer immediately important.

You may not care whether or not you breastfed when you are 10 or 20 or 30, but one day you will. One day you will come to me when you are pregnant and want to know. You will want the full details of problems we faced, how long you nursed, why I we nursed to begin with.

I will tell you that even though it was such a short period of time in the grand scheme of things, it was a very important part of your life. It helped you to reach your full potential and be as happy and healthy as I wanted you to be. It was only the first few years of your life, but it was important to me. It made you happy. It made me happy. It made the world around as just work. I will tell you that you were a very happy baby and toddler and that even the times you weren’t very happy, breast milk made you happy again. I will tell you that there were difficult times too, but we worked hard and fixed our problems because I knew it would be worth it.

One day, I will help you to have this same special relationship we have with my future grandson or granddaughter. You will understand why I fought so hard to keep our relationship going and give other women the opportunity to have this relationship too. You’ll understand that while it’s only the first 1/20th of your life or less, it’s still incredibly important. It is giving you the best start possible.

 

 Here are more posts by the Breastfeeding Cafe Carnival participants! Check back because more will be added throughout the day.

Gum

I have dissociative disorder. Needless to say, I’ve had some severely messed up things happen to me. My mind responded by deleting large chunks of memory. I am grateful for this because it allows me to function.

On the other hand–because there is always an other hand to something good–I loathe this dissociation. You see, dissociation isn’t very precise. I’m not lucky enough to just have the horrible memories deleted, all memories are deleted. Well, virtually all memories.

So what does this have to do with gum? You’re going to have to wait a little longer for that answer.

My mother’s mother was my favorite grandma (not that she had much competition, but that’s another story for another day). I say was because she’s dead. I’m sure that she’s on a pedestal in my head not only because she’s deceased, but also because I have almost no memories of her. She died when I was 11, so I should have at least some memories, but I don’t.

I only have one memory of her. When I was younger, I was severely attached to my mother. I know every child is attached to their mother, but I was freakishly attached. I would get hysterical every time she went to work, sometimes crying for over an hour. This was even worse when she worked nights. Sometimes we would stay with my grandma overnight while my parents worked. The memory I have of her is a short, fuzzy flash of her rocking me in her arms like a baby while I was crying and watching my mom leave for work.

But I digress.

I was at my mom’s the other day and she told me that she went to a local ice cream store and bought a bunch of stuff. She got this gum. Do I remember this gum? My great grandma (and I would assume grandma too) loved this gum. No, I don’t remember it at all. But then she sticks the package under my nose and I take a big whiff and… I feel pure bliss. I felt so happy I could cry. No, I do not remember that gum, but that feeling gives me hope that, one day, I might.