'Early' Moms' Journeys

It was a new normal for these women, a new breed, who instinctively knew and understood the benefits of breastfeeding their young. Two had newborns while another had a one-year-old. In the midst of fathers and grandparents, they nursed, talked and laughed, intermittently, while the offspring, they had co-produced, ate the food of excellence. Everything seemed so natural at the birthday party celebration of one of the new dads.

Was this the new look of the modern age of parenting? The idea of formula had never entered the minds of these brilliant young women, one a French Immersion teacher, another president of her own music company while still another was a naturopathic doctor who had travelled to another country for her medical internship. Their pregnancies had progressed well. The births, though painful and long term, in some cases, had been a family affair with dads, up close and personal, attended by the midwives, carefully chosen. It was an experience vastly different from mine of the last century. Ouch!

The three young women had gathered in the living room for feeding time. It was an ongoing ritual, performed every few hours or every few minutes, everyday. The babies' health and lives depended upon it. It was, after all, the best food in the world, a custom-made brew produced strictly for each baby by the incredible mom machine feeding them. The human body is a miraculous machine. There is simply nothing like it, anywhere.

These new moms had attended all workshops and midwife appointments. Whenever problems developed in the routine of caring for baby, these women asked for help. They knew what they were doing and why. All had taken maternity leave from busy careers. I was a grandmother to two of these babies. It was an exciting time for all.

These modern moms were focused and unmoved with a strict adherence to keeping their newborns ahead of the growth charts, with impenetrable immunity, along the way. With dogs and cats in their midst, their babies' asthma risk was low. (Pet ownership bestows health benefits upon children we are now learning). Whatever these women ate, so would their babies, indirectly. Eating out was a rare occurrence, too soon to 'imprint' on the 'mouths' of these early perfect humans. They understood.

Decades ago, as a first time mom, grains were the building blocks for my baby. I could tolerate little else. Funny, though. The lectin doctor, the wheat belly doctor and grain brain doctor might have frowned on my forced selections during that bygone era. But my food choices were clear. My body directed the  aberrant 'eating' performance. These 'unapproved' foods provided the only respite from the morning sickness that ran rampant, every moment, every day, all day. 

 

My body could tolerate few foods. Red river cereal, cream of wheat, oatmeal, corn meal and buckwheat kasha with onions and butter, for brief windows of time, stood on guard. Then my world would come crashing down, again. How could my fetus survive this daily onslaught of 'violence'. Would nutrition eve nhave  a part tot play? I worried non-stop about my pregnancy's viability. I hoped for a miracle. It came when he survived his 3-month early birth and arrived home one month ahead of his original due date. Food made all of that happen, a food called mother's milk. It helped save his life! The doctors were relieved that 'we' had even bothered. It was 1979. His diet outside the womb was better than what he had received inside it. At 3-pound 2 ounce, the doctors had been impressed with his gestational weight.

My grandsons are tall and solid, for their ages, incredible students of their environment. They smile frequently, focus on the objects of their desire, expect to be moved to new spaces while watching, with a careful eye, what people are saying and doing. Eye-hand co-ordination is a top notch skill set. Both babies are in the know. They approve of everything. While the three month old 'talks' and smiles, he watches all and moves his head to the beat of all that happens around him. The older baby, my one-year-old grandson, performs with abandon, loves to dance, snap his fingers and interact with the sounds of life around him. He is patient and kind with the animals, in his midst, as the licks of affection envelope his face. He feeds himself with foods with a dynamic nutrient 'footprint'. No french fries for this boy - yet! Mother's milk is now a secondary tiered food, a side dish with other powerful munchies his mom provides. I am in awe of both my girls.

The 'ease of preparation' of mother's milk makes it an unbeatable, 'cheap' food for baby. Preemies depend on it, as the sugars, in this custom made elixir, help in the removal of killer pathogens from the digestive tract. Preemie milk is also top notch in other ways making it the best version of regular mother's milk in baby's life and death struggle to survive. It's an elixir like no other. 

 

Watching these new moms ready themselves for the next moment of nursing is a comfort to behold. They are reaching into their child's future and providing them with health benefits of untold proportions. For these pioneers, mother's milk is not simply a choice for their babies. It is their human right!