Choosing NOT to Breast Feed and How it Saved My Life

The baby is sleeping, the big girl is on the edge of the couch watching "Gator Boys" and I have a few minutes all to myself. Thank you Jesus for the Animal Planet, when trash is on elsewhere we can always rely on this beloved station to help us become just a little bit smarter.  You know, like how to getch a gator in the middle of a Mississippi swamp with nothing more than a lasso.  I mean this is handy dandy stuff in deed!

See, this is me writing to you!  

 It's been a few days since I have sat down to write and I feel myself getting the itch to spew words here on this sacred space all my own.

Yesterday a friend shared an article on Facebook that immediately caught my eye.  It was entitled "Ending Breast Feeding Mommy Wars. And while I am not normally a part of these types of discussions, the idea of making peace between these two rival camps of mothers intrigued me.  So I clicked on over and began to read.

And as I read each of these women's stories I realized that even I have a story to tell when it comes to formula feeding and breast feeding. Yep, I do.

Usually when it comes to my boobs chest the only story I meditate on is how I used to be tee-niny (like size A) and after my hysterectomy I shot up to a D.  Yes, we are talking about my boobs chest.  Oh how I wish I had my A's back….they were my friends.  I knew how to dress them and they never got in my way.  Now…now I have no idea what to do with these….girls, so to speak.

But I digress.  Getting back to my story.  Are you still reading?

Most women fall in one of two camps.  Either they are breastfeeding focused or they do the formula thing.  I was of the formula variety.  And not just with my adopted son but with my biological daughter as well.

I never wanted to breastfeed.  I had always had trouble sleeping (read. INSOMNIA) and back then my insomnia used to produce major anxiety.  I knew that if I didnt get my sleep at night I was going to be worthless to my new baby girl.  So I planned ahead of time to feed her formula so that both the hubster and I could share the feeding responsibility.

I have never regretted that decision.  It was what was best for me and my family.  Because in the end a sane mother (which only happens when I get sleep) is always the best option.

Nevertheless, I still found myself having to defend my decision to formula feed, even years later.  Or maybe I unknowingly put pressure on myself to make a defense for my decision.  But either way I found myself being quick to explain the reason behind the decision.

I don't feel that way anymore.  Mostly due to the fact that God used my decision to formula feed as a way to bless me.  In fact, it may have even helped save my life.

You see, it was when my milk dried up that things started going to hell in a hand basket quite rapidly.  Just 10 days after giving birth to my daughter, my milk had finally begun to dry up and I began to display the first signs of what we would later come to know as Life-Threatening PMS.

And those in the breastfeeding camp might be quick to tell me that had I breastfed I might never experienced the depression and anxiety that so cruelly took my life for a year.  But I can confidently profess that in my case, that would never have been the case.  No amount of breast feeding would have kept this beast at bay. In fact, I now believe that my decision to formula feed decreased the length of time I would suffer.  Kinda like ripping a band aid off.

I won't rehash the whole story but to sum it up….after giving birth to my daughter my hormones went crazy.  They fluctuated so rapidly that my brain could not keep up or at least this is the layman's way to understand it.  What resulted was a year long battle to save my very life.

I barely lasted a year in the constant turmoil and pit of despair that had swallowed me whole.  My milk dried up, I went crazy (did I mention I went crazy?) and had I had to endure the sickness much longer I shutter to think the outcome.

God knew what I could handle and he equipped me to survive exactly the number of days I needed.  Had I chosen to breastfeed it would have prolonged the start of my hormonal destruction and could have pushed back healing by a year or so. Not to mention the fact that my insomnia and anxiety over not sleeping would have spiraled out of control had I not decided to formula feed.

God knew all that was happening and he planted in me desires and passions that would best serve me and my family.  My Insomnia (which I suffered from all my life) led to Anxiety which led to my decision to Formula Feed which lead to a shortened time of suffering.

Could God have orchestrated things differently?  Yes of course.  But he always does what is best even though it may bring pain.  But for the record, I hate the pain part.  I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.  It's what makes me ready for him to come back, it's what makes me look to the sky in hopes of seeing him swoop down on that white horse and rescue us.

But in the meantime I will relish in his faithfulness.  He took what was meant for destruction in my life and turned it for good.  And he does the same for you.

If you are suffering from anxiety, depression, insomnia or any other challenging situation and you are about to have your first baby (or third) take heart!  You don't have to make the same decision as your neighbor or your friend or your sister.  And you are not alone in your journey.

Maybe breastfeeding is right for you or maybe formula feeding is better for your family. Whatever your decision, God provides for us all and we can be confident of this; any mother who feeds her baby does so out of love.

For me, deciding not to formula feed helped save my life.  It's just how God orchestrated things.  But in the end, feeding our babies is not a moral issue.  There is no wrong way to do it.

 Formula Feed or Breast Feed it doesn't matter.  I support you in your decision.  And who knows, maybe your boobs chest will have a story to tell one day!  (why is it so hard for me to use the word boob? I should probably stop typing )

And lucky for you, the baby is crying and the big girl keeps trying to get my attention.  Something about the "wild man" catching a coyote with his bare hands.  Seriously people, we surely aren't dumber for having watched animal planet.