Committed

You may have read previous posts where I rail on about the problems in children’s health in the world. As a technical advisor for nutrition, one of the areas I am most passionate about is breastfeeding. Did you know that about 1 million children could be saved each year (10% of all the deaths in children under five) if their mothers were supported to exclusively breastfeed their my life, I have seen too many babies close to death because their mothers had stopped breastfeeding.

A few years ago, in Darfur, I organized and led a training on breastfeeding for doctors, nurses, and community health workers. We taught them the benefits of breastfeeding, how it all works, and how to counsel mothers who are having a hard time. It was one of the most interesting and enjoyable weeks I have every spent working. But I felt a little disingenuous. After all, I had never breastfed a baby myself – what did I know about how hard it could be?

So when I was pregnant, I couldn’t wait to get started nursing my baby. Seriously, I was so much more excited about this than about buying baby clothes, picking names, or decorating a nursery (don’t have one), or all the other things pregnant women seem to get hyped about. Unlike many other women I know, I wasn’t the slightest bit worried that I would have trouble.

Fortunately for me, it has been smooth sailing almost from day one. It took a few days to figure out how to hold Milo’s body in one hand, my boob in another, and his head with my third…hand… Wait, come again?

But being a working, nursing mom has been a real challenge. I bought this fancy breastpump before I left the US and toted it all the way to Africa – then blew out the transformer the first time I plugged it in. Woops! So ever since September, I have been using a small, manual, hand-held pump to express milk for Milo’s bottles. Squish, squish, squish. I have one hell of a strong handshake now.

It would be easier if I spent a lot of time in the office, but in fact I often have to travel for work or go off to meetings and workshops. I have pumped in unoccupied hotel rooms, bathrooms of all states of maintenance, spare offices, even the back seat of the company car, as I held a meeting with one of my colleagues on the road.

I am thinking of all this today, because I have been asked to support a district that is starting a new nutrition program this week. Before Milo, I used to travel at least one week a month. Since he was born, I haven’t spent a single night away from him. Thankfully my office is very understanding, but I haven’t quite worked out how I will manage this time. Yes, I have some milk frozen, but not enough for 4 days. And refrigeration in the field is dicey, so I might not be able to store any milk while I am away.

Most likely, I will choose to commute, driving 1 ½ hours each way. I’ll have to sneak away sometime during the day while I’m out at the health centers, finding some dingy corner where I can sit and drape myself with a chitenje to hide my little workhorse of a hand pump. Squish, squish, squish. Talk about practicing what you preach!