disappointment

This girl thought she had it all figured out.  As she eagerly anticipated meeting her first daughter, she gave little thought to the possibility that parenting might be difficult.  She prepared a nursery, and took cute maternity photos, and attended showers where family and friends overwhelmed her with their generosity and praised her, for she was sure to be the most wonderful of moms.

Fast forward a few months.  I am still that naive girl, but I've gained a bit of knowledge in the short 7 weeks that Zach and I have shared with this precious little girl  You see, I never thought I would feature a photo for the public, in which I was giving my child formula.  If my writing is worth anything, you may have even tasted the disgust I felt at saying the word "formula".

But here it is.  See that gorgeous little girl...I've failed her.  At least that's what I have been telling myself. 

During her very first hour of life, I sent her straight to the breast and gazed lovingly at her and my husband whilst I panicked on the inside because she didn't immediately make the connection and start nursing.  Throughout most of our hospital stay, doctors and nurses and lactation consultants constantly encouraged us with, "It can take a few days for baby to even feel hungry.  She'll get it eventually."

Finally on our last night in the hospital, exhaustion and the reality of how our life had changed beginning to take its toll, I was told that Piper was jaundiced and her bilirubin levels were going up.  We really needed to get some food in her.  And that meant supplementing (yet another curse word).  I became discouraged, and an inner battle broke out. 

We left the hospital with little nursing success under our belt, and a jaundiced baby who would barely even wake up to drink formula.

Over the next several weeks I continued to struggle with nursing.  I found that with people coming in and out and new duties as a mom (aside from feeding my child) there seemed to be little time to try nursing, and less time to pump.  We experienced little success.  She wasn't interested and I wasn't producing.

Next came surgery for me.  A routine procedure to remove my galbladder when Piper was just barely a month old.  I went from producing little milk, to being in too much pain to try.  And then it was gone.  It is official.  Piper is formula-fed.

This afternoon while on a drive in the country (just so that the little one and I could get out of the house and breathe some fresh air) I began to beat myself up, for about the thousandth time, about failing .  And then I prayed and the Lord encouraged me and humbled me.  This is merely one area of parenting in which I feel inadequate, but it is the one that stings the most.

So we chalk this one up to experience and lessons.  First of all, the Lord is in control.  And the right equipment, or environment, or safety measures, or method of nourishing her doesn't change the most important thing of all:  Piper needs Jesus.  Next, the only things I'm sure about are the goodness of God and the things I'm not sure about.  Last, and I need to say this one out loud, Piper will be o.k.

sag