One of the items I recommend to moms for their Conscious Breastfeeding tool-box is a journal. 

I am one of the Kodak generation.  In large families, the  number of photos taken of you were often a function  of where you fell in the line of children.  The moments of our babyhood were not nearly as well catalogued as those of modern babies. Thanks to the digital revolution, the potential exists that every detail of their lives will be captured in vivid detail.

A hard-copy memoir of your time as a breastfeeding mother should be part of the time capsule of your baby’s life.  It will give them insight and understanding into your life as a mother, wife, partner,worker and of their development as a unique individual.

It is remarkably revealing to read my mother’s letters written, in her own hand, to my father before they were married.  Those were the days when people really wrote letters.  Separated by an ocean and without the luxury of cheap phone calls, those missives were their only means of communication.  There, in my mother’s handwriting, I am able to read of how much she was looking forward to having her first baby.  She hoped it would be a girl and was right; I was born the following year.  I wish that the trail didn’t end there.  I would love to know how she felt in those early days as a wife and mother raising me in a new country.

We have all heard of how having a baby seems to alter our ability to remember things.  Your journal will ensure that those precious memories will never fade.

Although it could be kept in a digital form. I recommend that mothers do this the old-fashioned way. 

On the most practical level, you will observe the patterns of your babies life.  You will be looking at feedings and how the breastfeeding is unfolding.  Knowing when and how well feedings are going will give you information to help you optimize your breastfeeding experience.

1. Pick a notebook, album, scrapbook that is beautiful and durable.  You will be filling this with your memories of this time in your life.  It will be a window into how you were growing and feeling as a mother and of the changes you observed in your breastfeeding baby.

2. It might be a great practice to begin writing a note or letter to your baby on a regular basis.  The art of writing can connect us more deeply with our creative, authentic selves.   

3. Take tons of photos of course.  Print some and include them in the pages.  Cut out photos that appeal to you in magazines and periodicals.   You will be creating a sort of vision board for your life as a mother as you document the memories of  breastfeeding your baby .

4. Include inspirational quotes and what you are grateful for on a daily basis.  You will be able to expand upon these ideas as your child grows up.

5. Include calendars and and document important occasions that were experienced during this time.   

6. Include locks of hair, etc. as the mood strikes.  Audio and video (cd/dvd) can be added to supplement the written word. 

Your breastfeeding journal can be so much more than just a way of managing and gaining  insight into your breastfeeding experience.   It can be an opportunity to engage in a creative expression of your life with your baby.  It will capture your  unique handwriting, thoughts and memories for posterity. 

It will serve as a legacy- a time capsule item to share with  future generations of your family. 

Such provenance is priceless!

I have taught thousands of hours of breastfeeding classes in the multicultural, urban environment of New York City. 

We live in a world that revolves around information; knowledge on any given subject appears to be just one google search or click away.  This may explain why an increasing number of students who come to my classes lately seem to be there merely to confirm what they think they already know versus wanting to actually learn something new.  

Adult learners, often find it difficult to be open to the richness of a learning experience when they fear judgement or criticism.  It is often more important to be right than to risk being wrong or feeling like a complete newbie.

I am reminded of my first day in Japanese class. 

The appearance of a diminutive teacher who immediately began speaking in a foreign tongue made me feel at loose ends.  I ultimately mastered enough spoken Japanese that I was able to spend several wondrous holidays travelling throughout Japan.  I immersed myself in the culture and made many new friends.  My language skills have gotten rusty, but rudimentary communication is still  possible for me with little effort. 

A love of learning has impacted my approach to teaching.  There are several learning styles auditory, visual, kinesthetic.  It is not uncommon for some of us to use more than one at any given time to learn and anchor an experience into our memory. 

When your brain is under the misimpression that it already knows something you tend to filter for new data or for things that do not fit your preconceived notions.  Often that filtering process impedes learning because the mind is only attentive to parts of the whole. 

When participants ask me questions using terms and words that I have not uttered and ascribe them to me, it becomes clear that they are at best only selectively listening during class.  When these queries come from their own internal dialogue and are not directly related to content delivered, I thank them and clarify what I had actually said.  Hopefully, this helps them to take in a piece of new information. 

It turns out that cultural differences, apart from language, can also have a bearing on how the students in my classroom may interpret and receive the information.  According to the article published in the Winter edition of Tufts Magazine, ‘The Brain in the World-A Burgeoning Science Explores the Deep Imprint of Culture’, the field of cultural neuroscience is only about two years old. 

Tufts psychology professor Nalini Ambady puts it this way: cultural neuroscience shows that “there is malleability in the neural structure depending on cultural exposure.” The brain, she says, is a “sponge that absorbs cultural information.” What she and other cultural neuroscientists have discovered is that although the brains of people from different cultures do not exhibit large structural differences, certain neural pathways do become more ingrained from immersion in a particular culture. They’ve also learned that those differences in brain function can influence our emotions, our behavior, and our attitudes toward people from cultures other than our own.

It goes on to describe a study done with American and Japanese subjects who were shown groups of photographs and asked to rate them according to the characteristics of dominance, maturity, likeability and trustworthiness.  The researcher, Rule, then broke those down into two sub-groups of power and warmth.  The Americans overwhelmingly favored the powerful faces and the Japanese the warm ones.  When fMRI scans were done it was noted that the Americans were using the analytical parts of their brains and the Japanese the emotional areas.

But what he discovered surprised him: both groups were using the same part of the brain—the amygdala. Sometimes called the “lizard brain,” the amygdala, which has been with us since the early days of our evolutionary journey, helps us detect threats, but it has a more general function as well, signifying increased attention to any object in the outside world. In this case, the amygdala was firing for both the American and the Japanese groups when they saw the picture of the leader they preferred.

It should be noted that the amygdala is also a prime area for the infant’s experience of breastfeeding.  

As a teacher, I am left to wonder how I might better engage these amygdalas, the cultural command central of the brains of these mothers-to-be? The answer may lie in the common thread of child-like wonder that is a constant in every culture while we are young. 

So it not just the words, visuals and the practice of positions, but a cultural sensitivity that may ensure breastfeeding instruction does not get lost in translation.

What do you think? What has worked for you?

Frida Kahlo was born on this day, 103 years ago, into the patriarchal society of early 20′th century Mexico.  A revolutionary in so many ways, she created an enduring brand of her image that greeted me today on my Google home page.

A  lifetime of painful experiences, including contracting polio, a near fatal bus accident, a tumultuous marriage and infidelities, multiple miscarriages, served as the inspiration for her paintings.  She continually pushed the envelope of social convention as she struggled to find her identity and come to terms with what it meant to be a Mexican woman.  

One of her more powerful paintings, ‘My Nurse and I’ gives us an idea of how this journey began for Frida.

Frida’s mother fell into a postpartum depression in the months following her birth and handed her over to a nanny.  There are reports that her wet nurse was drinking and offered little nurturing and care to her as an infant.  This lack of bonding is thought to have been the impetus for her perpetual attempts at giving birth to and mothering herself through her art.  

There are many layers to this painting.   The masked nurse hints at a shameful and victimized version of the Mexican mother, La Malinche.   Seemingly abandoned by her own mother, she was left to nurture her own development to adulthood.  On a more positive note, she connects to her Mexican homeland and indigenous culture symbolically through this act of breastfeeding.

As a breastfeeding advocate, I find it disturbing to see this impersonal depiction of what should be a primal bonding experience between a mother and her child or between a loving mother surrogate, wet nurse, and child. 

Frida Kahlo shared with us in this painting what she perceived to be the lack of the milk of human kindness that was offered to her while she was at the breast.  Although this had left a bad taste in her mouth, she still portrayed breastfeeding as the cultural norm for her time.

What feelings does this painting evoke in you?