Breastfeeding...

Motherhood is not as easy as we imagine, especially when we are far from our motherland, thus far from the culture and tradition we know, far from the caring presence of our parents and siblings, far from the comforting words of our friends... Unsolicited advices are just everywhere, advices which I filtered with vigilance. They are either contradicting from one person to another, or simply not compatible with my beliefs and culture.

I stayed 6 days in the maternity clinic, not because I or bébé had complications or problems, it's because breastfeeding wasn't well established yet. The first 3 days, my colustrum which should nourrish bébé was, hélas, not enough. Bébé, who was big at birth needed more than I could offer. I was obliged to give her milk complements. My breastmilk started to flow 4 days after the birth of bébé, when breastfeeding was close to impossible. I was aching everywhere due to fatigue - physically, morally and psychologically - breastfeeding became a veritable ordeal. I nevertheless continued breastfeeding. It was a choice I made which I will pursue no matter what the cost. I just wanted the best for my bébé.

On the 5th day, I finally slipped on my normal clothes and dressed up bébé, both excited and enthusiastic to find our very own place. Frenchguy was there early in the morning to drive us back. Bad news, they won't allow us to go. Cause: breastfeeding!

Fed up as I was, I finally decided to try breastpumps, thinking that they will finally allow us to go. Of course, I was dreaming. I again stayed one more day for them to teach me how to feed my bébé, criticizing me of my choice of pumping my milk. No matter how I explain that it would be temporary, just the time for my breast to heal, they nevertheless enjoyed the time talking to me like experts, treating me like a moron, traumatizing my still weak morale, adding to my already-high level of anguish.

Never had I appreciated home... but wait, my ordeal isn't complete yet.

Last week, my excited inlaws drived all the way from their region to see bébé. My relationship with them is very smooth, I could even consider myself as spoiled brat as they do everything to please me - especially in cuisine!

Hélas, my MIL's unsolicited advices just suffocated me! To my surprise, she is a die-hard fan of bottlefeeding! In fact, it was the time when Europe relanced their industries when she had babies. Bottlefeeding was of course prioritized during that time to enhance consumption, to the detriment of breastfeeding!

Imagine her watching me feeding my bébé, taking note of the time, telling bébé to speed up, asking me how I could measure the quantity, telling me I could switch to bottlefeeding, recounting to me her experience, almost blaming breatsfeeding each time bébé cries... I was stressed out! After 3 days of total torture, I talked to frenchguy about the moral harassment I've been experiencing. He talked to her maman and that end up my ordeal. She of course doesn't want any harm, she just wanted to help out, to share her experience, to participate in her own way... but no, thanks!

Breastfeeding is a challenge. It's a choice. It's a sacred moment between a mother and her child, a moment of satisfaction. I'm glad I continued with my choice inspite of the discouraging encouragement of some. It's a moment when I see my bébé change before my eyes, a moment of innocent smiles, a moment of communication... I love this moment!

My bébé at 2 weeks old...