Yep. It's true. Baby formula ruined my day.
Want to know how baby formula ruined my day? Because I couldn't pick one. For the last three hours, yes, t.h.r.e.e. hours I have looked at reviews of infant formula.
I have done everything within my power to increase my milk supply to be able to exclusively breast feed my child. No such luck. No amount of Fenugreek, pumping, Blessed Milk Thistle, more pumping, or baby nursing is going to change it. Try as I might, with my armpits that now reek or maple syrup, thanks to said Fenugreek, my kiddo needs some supplementing. Supply and demand my ass. My kid or pump has been on my chest all day for multiple days and I still only pump and ounce an hour, and Grayson still wants more.
Now I realize that this is a hot topic. I realize people will be inclined to give me their advice, and honestly, I'm not looking for it, as well intention-ed as it may be. I know my body, and I know my babe, and I know what we need to do.
Hence, the formula research.
Because heaven forbid something around parenting should be easy and not laced with fear, I'm pretty sure every type of formula has something in it that shall surely cause cancer or poison my baby. Or I could spend more money and get the organic kind. Oh, but wait, they use chemicals to produce the DHA and ARA, so again, the poison...and they have a reputation for constipating babies. Oh and since it's base is derived from rice, it might have high levels of arsenic in it. Awesome.
So after reading three hours worth of reviews on different brands and types of formulas on Amazon, I have resigned. I admit defeat.
Sweet baby boy, I want to do what is best for you, but I no longer want to live in this state of panic surrounding parenting. I will feed you. You shall grow. End of story.
I will research and I will try to do my best, but I refuse to let myself be again consumed by fear over formula. I am totally one of those suckers that can easily be swayed by scare tactics. When I am not conscious about my thoughts and intentional about my decisions, I quickly go into "scarcity" mode, I am easily consumed by fear. I would love to take out tons of insurance policies. Just in case. Or hide away gobs of money. Just in case. I guess you would first have to possess gobs of money to hide them away, but I digress.
Want to know a secret? I will never, ever, be a perfect parent. In one way or another, I will, for certain, mess up my child. My child will experience pain and hardship. I guess that isn't really a secret at all.
While there is this inner life force that wants to do whatever possible to prevent Grayson from experiencing pain, I am learning that this may not be what is best for him.
I want him to experience the world (not necessarily constipation at this young age, but you get what I'm saying). I want him to know the whole world, and I want him to have an insane desire to change it and make it a better place. I don't want him to live in a bubble where the world seems good enough, where things seem peachy keen. I want my kid to live a big, brave life. And feeding him one brand of formula instead of another will not matter in years to come. I am lucky enough to live in a county where I can feed my baby with such ease. Big picture Jaci, big picture.
So while I pride myself on my awesome researching abilities, I am going to table my formula research at this time. I am going to pick a brand of formula and stick to it. And life will go on. Then I am going to spend my energy on researching things that really matter, and I will invest my time teaching my babe how to explore and experience the world.
I am going to have to continually make conscious decisions to push past my fear while I parent my child. I am going to have to parent myself in the process. I am going to have to hold on desperately to the big picture and what I really want my life to represent and be about, and what I really want Grayson to learn from his momma.
Hoping to have a little photo shoot with him in a couple days. We had his 4 month apt yesterday, and while shots were no big deal, he cried so hard while they looked in his ears that he broke all the blood vessels around his eyes and forehead, now looking like a freckled, defeated, mess. Poor little dude.