A Taste of What's to Come

It's been almost five months since I completely weaned Casey, and pretty soon he will turn 1 and be off of bottles and formulas, and onto the real stuff.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss breastfeeding.  I don't know why.  In a lot of ways, I'm excited for this year mark to pass, because I know that had I been left to my own devices, and not had health issues that caused me to wean early, I would be weaning right about now.

Even though I'm no longer an official breastfeeder, I still find myself very defensive of breastfeeding moms.  Like if someone gets offended by someone for breastfeeding in public.  Or when Facebook took down those pictures of women breastfeeding.  Or when people got all up in arms about that breastfeeding doll.  Come on. It's natural, people!

So when I saw this ACLU petition regarding the LSAT exam and breastfeeding moms, I couldn't help but get a little worked up about it.

For any non-lawyers out there, the LSAT is basically the law school entrance exam - you can't get into law school without taking it.  The exam itself lasts approximately four hours.  Apparently, the Law School Admissions Council (the organization that administers the LSAT) has a blanket policy of denying all requests for accommodation from nursing mothers who need to pump during the exam itself.   So basically, if you want to take the LSAT and you are nursing, be prepared to endure pain and invest in some extra breast pads.

Are they serious?  I'm not suggesting breastfeeding mothers should have any advantages, but surely some accommodation could be made for these women to, um, get rid of the milk that is about to explode out of their boobs?

Whoever is making these decisions surely has never had said milk explode out of their boobs.  I am pretty sure of that.

Whatever.  I suppose I'm not surprised.  The barriers to a legal career and motherhood start early. And trust me, beyond law school, it doesn't get any easier.

But this is just ridiculous.

For anyone interested, you can click the link above to sign the ACLU petition.

The Last Supper

(Disclaimer: So far, a lot of my posts have been about the juxtaposition of a law career and motherhood.  This one is pure, raw motherhood.  So to all the male, childless attorneys out there reading, my apologies in advance if this post just isn't your thing.) 

After 6 and a half months, my son, Casey, is officially weaned.  We have brought out the bottles, and a new era begins.  I am heartbroken.

I never thought I would be the type who would fall in love with breastfeeding.  I've always been a new age hippy wannabe, but I never quite get there.  When I was pregnant, I took a natural birthing class in the hopes of giving birth drug free.  I didn't labor long before I begged (okay, screamed)  for an epidural.  I will only buy organic fruits and vegetables, and I make my own baby food, yet I take my son to McDonalds once a week.  I go on yoga and meditation kicks, but I am probably one of the more high strung people you will meet.

So when it came to breastfeeding, before Braden (my first son) was born I had a similar half hearted dedication.  My goal was to make it to six weeks.  I felt good about this target, as it meant Braden would get all the antibodies and benefits early on, and then it wouldn't be too long before my husband could share in the feeding and nighttime duties.  And anyway, I have low bone density, so I was advised by my doctor to only breastfeed for six months max.  I purchased all the related breastfeeding gear - ointments, pads, pump - but expected to shelf it in relatively short order after my son was born.

And then Braden came.  The labor was long, but otherwise uncomplicated, and the first time I looked at him was the most amazing moment of my life.  It was such an out of body experience - this baby came out of me?!?!?  A real life person?  My husband and I both cried.  And within moments, he was wrapped in a blanket, on my chest, and breastfeeding.  The moment had been so overwhelming that I almost didn't notice I was feeding him.  It was just so natural - just the way it was supposed to be.  Braden was not inside me anymore, but we were still so intertwined and connected.  From that moment, I was hooked.