Idiocracy

Has anyone seen that little gem directed by Mike Judge? It's hilarious, tacky, and so, so frighteningly true.

Last night I couldn't sleep. At all. I got about 30 minutes. You see, a friend, someone I care a lot about, told me she stopped nursing last week. Her baby is less than a month old. Her two older children have horrible, horrible food allergies. Her baby is being tested for possible breathing problems or a seizure disorder. She KNOWS that formula can aggravate all of those problems. So why did she stop?

I'm not sure. I think she had sore nipples from a bad latch (the baby got a pacifier). Possibly it was normal nipple adjustment. "Formula was easier." The usual. "Well, I tried," she told me. I nearly cried. Ya know what? Nursing is hard work to learn. It's hard to keep going. But it's so damned much easier in the long run! Nothing to wash. Nothing to prepare. No time wasted with a screaming-hungry baby. And then there's this.

Why do I care so much? Why am I personally offended by the "organic section" in the baby store ad that came in the mail today that contains "organic" disposable diapers and "organic" chocolate milk for toddlers? Why do I find their "environmentally friendly" glass bottles a joke? Why am I so pissed off that my friend said she's using "that new formula that's so much closer to breastmilk. It has the immune stuff and all."

Hey, what comes out of a cow's udder and my udder is not really similar at all, especially when it's been processed that much. And my milk is alive. It's full of LIVING antibodies. It has proteins that have been broken down in a natural way to keep from irritating sweet baby bellies. It's customized for my own little Tyrannosaurus. You can't get that in a can!

I'm so tired of feeling so broken down, fighting against a cultural norm that's just plain WRONG. And yet, I'm considered the weird one because I nursed my daughter to age two (and was surprised that she weaned "so early"). I'm insane and a risk-taker because my second baby was born at home, in the bed in which he was created and in which he sleeps now (which would be where he's napping at this very moment).

I have done my research, fought to find where "what's best" fits with "what works for me." I battled to breastfeed the first time around when people kept telling me "if it's so hard, just give a bottle." I learned to cosleep in order to get sleep and found out that it has so many other benefits. I sling, not only for the convenience, but also for the help with language and interaction with the baby. I cloth diaper, not just because it's better for the environment, but also because it's better for tiny dino bums. I don't give vaccinations, because I just can't convince myself the benefit outweighs the risk. I fought not to circumcise my son because I believe babies come just right and that I have no right to alter his body without his permission (thankfully, I won that fight). And yet I'm the one that's strange!

I'm just tired of being "wrong" in a world that doesn't know it's a mile off base and heading quickly in the wrong direction.