Ecological Breastfeeding: A Concordian Critique

Abstract: Ecological Breastfeeding will not happen naturally for all (perhaps many or most) babies. It is a learned behavior that must be taught by mothers.

Way back when I got my CCL book to learn about NFP, I was mystified by the ecological breastfeeding business. Sure, I was planning on nursing my baby, but this was certainly the first I'd heard about pacifiers being pure, unadulterated evil. I finished the chapter convinced and horrified that I would have a baby at a minimum of every 15 months if I didn't follow the Seven Rules. As I've mentioned, breastfeeding turned out to be a lot more complicated than I anticipated and it wasn't long before the Seven Rules were nothing more than Seven Sources of Endless Guilt. And what do you know? I don't ecologically breastfeed by the Kippley rules, but none of my kids have ever had a drop of formula, they've all been nursed the requisite year, and the shortest interval between any two of them is 18.5 months. It's on the tight side, but I've lived to blog about it.

Here's a little rundown of the rules and my impious thoughts for the curious.

• Breastfeeding must be the infant's only source of nutrition – no formula, no pumping, and (if the infant is less than six months old) no solids.

Got no problem here, although I will say that I'm not going to start throwing stones at anyone who expresses for an evening out now or then. Maybe I'll try it again one of these years (we attempted it on Baby 3; she wouldn't take the bottle and we had to come home early).

• The infant must be pacified at the breast, not with pacifiers or bottles

Not one of my kids has ever been interested in nursing to kill time. There have been times when I've wished they would be pacified by nursing, but no, they want to be hauled aimlessly around the house, perhaps while plugged into a sinful, sinful dummy. And until we get the nursing in church thing figured out, the Divine Service is ground zero for pacifier use. As for bottles, back in the Boob Hell days, bottles were the only way for my daughter to get breastmilk. I was sure glad they existed, since I couldn't afford a wet nurse.

• The infant must be breastfed often. The standards for LAM are a bare minimum; more frequency is better. Scheduling of feedings should be avoided.

The bit about scheduling can be misleading to new moms. With all my nursing trouble, I felt like a complete failure for committing to feed the baby every two hours, come Tartarus or torrent. The truth is, she was a decent sized lass and didn't need to be fed that often. The schedule was for me, not her. It kept me operational when I so wanted to quit by attrition (oh, what do you know! I never fed the baby all morning!).

• Mothers must sleep with their infants – in the same room, if not in the same bed.

I'd rather just say mothers must sleep and leave it at that. Blessed are you, saintly women who can sleep with a baby in the same bed or room. I, after a month or two, do a very good job of walking seven steps down the hall into the room next door when the snuffling gets loud enough to indicate that it's for real, and I'm not kept up the rest of the night by low-grade sleep-snorting.

• Mothers must not be separated from their infants for more than three hours a day.

Really? Even three hours and eleven minutes? What if the shopping takes 2.5 hours plus 45 minute drive time without the baby (happily at home with Dad and sibling friends), or 4.75 hours with the (very unhappy) baby? Sheesh.

• Mothers must take daily naps with their infants.

Oh my. I couldn't even make this work when I only had one kid.

• The woman must not have had a period after 56 days post-partum (bleeding prior to 56 days post-partum can be ignored).

And woe betide that woman who shamefully did!

Here's how ecological breastfeeding really works, and please note that I'm not putting a value judgment on it: it purposely creates breastfeeding super-dependency. If your baby is used to waking up next to the deli counter and grabbing a sandwich every time, before long he isn't going to be able to just roll over and go back to sleep when he smells salami.

But I don't see a problem (biological, ethical, or otherwise) with not conditioning your child in this way if that's not your bag. If I have a baby who sleeps well on his own and puts in an 8- or 9-hour stretch overnight, there is no way I'm going to stop in on my way to bed to wake him up and feed him, and then set my alarm for an encore at 3 to make sure that we're all sufficiently ecological.

Frankly, not going the route of deliberately making your child an every-half-hour-feeder (and again, I have yet to own a baby who would be so obliging) has its advantages for those who have an earlier return of fertility. Many women breastfeed while pregnant. I've done it myself, but only of necessity for the older child. I've been pregnant again by that time at least twice (maybe three times), and nursing and pregnancy is a bad combination for me. But since my kids' worlds haven't revolved around breastfeeding day, night, dawn, dusk, and in the twilight zone, they've all signed off gradually with zero evidence of trauma, purely by my switching to a don't offer, don't refuse policy once the candle is blown out. I've been very thankful that when my children have reached their first birthdays, we've weaned without weeping and gnashing of teeth. Especially the latter.

And, tautology hunters, I always nurse on demand (which usually means by our mutually satisfactory, de facto schedule) until the baby turns one, start solids late, and never push them beyond the baby's interest, even when I am pregnant and very unhappy about nursing. Some girls just get back in the game early, and I'm one of them. The difference is that I don't deliberately inflate demand. So, no, I don't ecologically breastfeed by the Seven Rules. If I did, I'd definitely feel too exhausted for another baby right now. Moreover, for someone who doesn't follow the Seven Rules, I "should" have an earlier return of fertility than I did with babies 2 and 3. Tautology yourself!

(And if you really have lots of time on your hands and are interested further reading, I ran into this while I was working on this post.)

Commands and promises

Lots of people argue that "Be fruitful and multiply" doesn't mean "keep that uterus occupied until it falls out on its own." Wow, thanks for being so understanding. Ok, ok, positive commands can be hard to quantify.

Or, wait--do we really think that? Do we ever argue about whether the Great Commission is command or promise? Is a pastor faithful if he says upon being installed at a parish, "My congregation and I will go into all the world once we've had some time together to get to know each other"? Can he say, "My ministry has been fruitful; I'm going to focus on the disciples I have and not baptize and teach any more"?

In this Ablaze!ing day and age, you'd get tarred and feathered for saying that pastors and the parishes to which they are wed should pace themselves when it comes to the Great Commission, not make more disciples than they can handle, have some fun together before they get down to the serious business of evangelism, go easy on an overextended and underhanded congregation. We all know the cost of discipleship is high, and that includes the start-up fees. But the costs don't excuse us from it.

So why does any Christian give another guff for making disciples the old-fashioned way? Does our theology and practice of Matthew 28:19-20 tell us anything about Genesis 1:28?

Vote of confidence

Dad: Cleaning the kitchen is a lot easier after two margaritas.

Me: This is why I drink all day.

Dad: If that were true, I think the kids would be more disheveled and the kitchen would be cleaner.

Big family study deadline reminder

To all who are participating in Marie MacPherson's big family study, remember that she would like your answers by September 1. If you're new here and didn't get the announcement a few months ago, mothers with four or more children are invited to answer some survey questions about how you get it all done. Email Marie if you've got some time this week to share your strategies!

Olympic roundup

Trampoline, people. It's an event. Think of it as diving for naturally beautiful and graceful people who just never figured out how to keep their feet from going in first. Not that I would know anything about that.
Rhythmic gymnastics. What happened to the ribbons? And didn't there used to be balls, too? Why isn't this getting the air time I remember from Seoul? Surely NBC isn't deliberately snubbing the 5-12 year old female demographic?

Synchronized swimming. Such remarkable talent, and so strangely applied.

Just you and me, Bébé

There’s nothing like a Great Family Vacation Adventure to lessen one’s inhibitions about breastfeeding in public. Here’s just sampling of places BabyBoy nursed last week:

Dockside picnic table overlooking Parade of Tall Ships, amid intermittent cannon salutes

Bleachers overlooking Rams’ summer training camp

Corner booth at Culver’s

Bench at downtown Farmer’s Market

Lawn chair at outdoor salsa concert

Picnic table next to quarry-turned-sandy-beach-swimming-hole

Shady nook at Irish Fest, within earshot of local pub band Blarney and Friends and Celtic rockers Seven Nations.

(Yup, lots of great food and music on this vacation)

All this fun was facilitated by the awesome nursing cover my mom got me when Boy the Latest was born (Product, Recommended!):

I could only hope to look so holistic and tranquil while nursing... And my cover is a different pattern. Though Mint Chocolate does sound awfully tasty...excuse me while I go do something about that...

Creed, recommended

The Nicene. It's great. And it's also available in an absolutely beautiful picture book for the kiddies. We've given this as a gift several times and got it back today from one of our kids' godparents (thank you!!). I'd forgotten how wonderful it is. It's illustrated by Pauline Baynes, who did the original Narnia drawings, and her artistic work teaches the text brilliantly. Very catholic, very good for provoking discussion, and very gratifying to hear even tiny ones saying the words along with you when you read it. The text is the old TLH version: the quick and the dead and the Holy Ghost. Also Catholic and Apostolic (sic). Pick it up!

"I'm so glad that school's finally starting again!"

I could take the annoying, moralizing high road here and pretend that I’m appalled by this frequently-heard sentiment, especially since most of the moms I’ve been hearing this from work outside the home, so they’re not even around their kids 24/7 during school breaks.

Or, I could admit that I’m rather terrified to contemplate a possible future of being perpetually and indefinitely in the company of my offspring. BoyOne will be having a Preschool Experience outside the home this year, but given our location and situation, we’re looking at starting homeschooling next year—another item on my lifelong list of “nevers” that it looks like I’ll have to eat. (Note to self: Stop telling God what I will and won’t do with “my” life, and start listening and obeying instead.) If every mom I talk to is going out of her mind by the end of August and desperately awaiting the reappearance of that big yellow bus, what hope is there for my sanity when “back-to-school” only means more of each other’s company?

I know, I know: homeschooling will be wonderful, I'll never regret it, etc., etc. And after all, there wasn’t much hope for my sanity in any case :P

Kid Lit for all occasions

When coveting a shapelier corpus: "Gertrude McFuzz" (find it in Yertle the Turtle)

When dealing with a difficult person: A Bargain For Frances

When unsure if it's you or the rest of the world that has gone insane: The Talking Turnip

When thinking you've got it rough making all these pancakes: Pancakes, Pancakes! (although, she was only cooking for one)

When a huge frog lives in your house and it becomes a problem: Bullfrog Grows Up

When ruing public bathing: "The Swim" from Frog and Toad Are Friends

When thinking of converting: I Had Trouble In Getting To Solla Sollew

When considering asking your husband to do the shopping: Millions of Cats

When wanting to be annoyed by how purely, shamelessly political the Caldecott has become: The Hello, Goodbye Window

When despairing: "The Red Shoes" (find it in here)

When wondering how the camel got his hump: How the Camel Got His Hump

When trying to get some dude to figure it out that you're not interested: One Was Johnny (full disclosure: in my experience, he'll miss the point and then eventually convince you to marry him anyway)

I and Thou

Many a Lutheran grandmother has gone head to head with the good Dr Luther, who famously called God "du." But it sounds more proper and respectful, they argue, to say "thee" and "thy" and "thou," demonstrating how these terms now connote the opposite of their original familiarity. As more naves become indistinguishable from restaurants or playgroups, the grandmas have a point. No one speaks respectfully to anyone any more, least of all to our finger-pulling pal Jesus. Inhabitants of this historical moment might find their piety better served with formality than familiarity.

And then again, can we have it both ways? If reverent words confess a knowledge of God particularly hidden in our time, are they not also uniquely familiar?