By Liz Leiman
The Little Guy is three months old today (where did the time go?!) By now I would like to think I have the hang of this whole breastfeeding business, but more often than not I wake up in a pool of milk or it seems the second I leave the house I have sprung a leak. We were very lucky, my son and I, to catch on from the start, but not without hours of obsessing before the big day actually came. I feel, like probably many women from my generation, I have had little exposure to breastfeeding. I didn’t have family to observe first hand. Many of my girlfriends are on child number two, but when their first babies were born I was single and not interested to see what went on behind the scenes. I considered a breastfeeding class, but was put on bed rest the last month of my pregnancy before I could attend. So I went in blindly and was lucky to have a great lactation consultant at the hospital were my son was born. A few weeks later I went to the Motherhood Center to the Breastfeeding Support Group just to make sure we were on the right track.
A couple of weeks ago I experienced what I feel is the ultimate baby challenge. We had our first solo trip without Dad to visit the grandparents out of state, which would also require us to fly. The neurotic new mother that I am read tirelessly online about flying with infants, as well as, interrogated my poor pediatrician about what to do. To add to my stress, the week of our trip, I decided to change the Little Guy’s nursing schedule by giving him an extra half hour between feeds and cutting out one feed altogether. I just knew all these changes along with the travel would surely cause a meltdown, but luckily he took it in stride. I wish I could say the same for myself.
The day of the flight I meticulously planned my nursing schedule. We already have a schedule, but a few tweaks were made to accommodate travel to the airport and the flight. We arrived at Hobby with ample time to get to our gate. The TSA employees were surprisingly helpful and patient guiding us through security and gently handled the two bottles of Liquid Gold I had brought for the flight. I think everyone has heard about the poor woman forced to chug a bottle of her breast milk in order to get through security post 9-11. I knew a better system had to be in place by now, but there was still a tiny fear in the back of my mind that I’d have to provide an encore performance. The milk went through in tact without being checked. The flight went well, and I followed my pediatrician’s advice about giving a bottle for take off and landing to help his little ears during the pressure change. The Little Guy stayed awake the entire flight and was a perfect angel until his diaper couldn’t hold anymore. This, of course, happened about ten minutes before we were to land and unable to get up to go to the restroom. Fortunately, the woman next to me helped change him on the seat in between us.
Our visit with the grandparents was a success; as expected, the Little Guy was spoiled rotten. The return home was a little more trying than the first trip. I only pumped one bottle for the flight this time. The Little Guy was due for a feeding just before take off and I planned to feed him in the car prior to check in and to use the bottle for take off and landing. However, I’m perpetually late and there were a couple of snags on the way to the airport. In the end, it became a mad dash to make the flight and feeding time was missed. Also, this time the TSA did check the bottle spilling a valuable half-ounce in the process. The Little Guy was very patient and only after an hour past his usual time did he really start to complain. By that time we had boarded. I could feel the other passengers giving me the evil eye as he howled for his lunch. I needed those precious few ounces (sans the spilled half ounce) I had pumped for the landing and knew he would easily finish it all while feeding. I could feel myself starting to perspire as I realized I had only one option - to nurse on the plane. I’m modest and have never nursed in public before. I have seen other women do it and hadn’t put too much thought in to whether or not I would, so it was a big step for me. I made him a little tent out of the blanket I had and he happily latched on, gulping hungrily. As we were both starting to relax an older woman took the seat beside me. We were flying Southwest and I was hoping that having a baby would deter potential neighbors. I warned her that he may cry, but she proudly exclaimed she was a grandmother and didn’t mind a bit. Sensing my trepidation, she smiled soothingly and told me I was doing the best thing referring to my nursing. She explained that all five of her children and all fifteen of her grandchildren were breastfed. I started to feel more at ease as I realized it was the right thing. I no longer worried about nursing in public and at that moment felt like I’d just soared the ranks in the New Mommy Club. I also learned a valuable lesson; that when traveling alone with an infant one must depend on the kindness of strangers.
By Liz Leiman
Tags: breastfeeding, breastfeeding class, breastfeeding support, travel