Yes, I love my boobs. I love them because they work very well. My son loves them! He is definitely a boobaholic, he is addicted, to boob-ahol. (Simpsons fans, anyone?) I do take them for granted. If he is fussy a boob generally gets shoved in his mouth. If I know he is sleepy I thrust a boob in there and he gets sleepy; this makes it easy for me to put him down for his nap or for bed. Sometimes I want to catch an extra few minutes of sleep. 9 times out of 10 he wakes up at 5-6:00 am, then he gets taken to bed with me where I nurse him and we both fall back asleep until around 8 am. This is wonderful, but should one woman hold so much power?!?!
It didn’t used to be this easy. For mothers who have the romantic idea that the baby will come out clean and cute and then be put to your breast- and will actually latch on- be prepared! Besides the fact that my son was not allowed to nurse immediately after delivery due to a breathing problem, when he was allowed he wasn’t having it. “Ummm… what is this squishy pink thing in my face? What do want me to do with it? Oh, I know, I am going to put a little in my mouth and make blisters on it!” Yeah, blisters. Bleeding. Sore. Ouch.
After the lactation consultant introduced the nipple shield (Hallelujah!!!!) to get him to latch, and after I then worked weeks to wean him from the shield, he finally got it. It took 5 weeks to be able to breast feed my son 100% successfully. And even then there was some mild pain. I would say 7 weeks until pain free and really getting the hang of it.
The amazing thing is that I never gave up. In the hospital when I was being milked manually (by a woman!) and having nurse after nurse shove my boob in his mouth telling me it needed to go deeper (not possible); I was doubting my ability to breast feed. I never doubted my commitment. The pediatrician gave me an out. He said, “My wife couldn’t do it either, but she pumps. Maybe you shouldn’t torture yourself, just pump.” And I thought, “if his wife- a doctor’s wife- can’t breast feed then maybe some people can’t. I should just pump.” But I talked myself out of that quickly. I am so glad I did.
I am now an expert. I nurse in public- proudly. My husband hates that I don’t use a nursing cover but my son won’t eat with one. I can take my breast out at a moments notice. I have nursed in a rest stop standing up, in a McDonalds, in the car more times that I can count, in the mall in various places, at friend’s houses, at the public library, at TJ Maxx, on a bench at the park while wearing rollerblades, at a restaurant, and so many other places I lose count. I walk around my house with him attached while I pick things up. I type while nursing-nak- for those not in the know! My next challenge is to figure out how to nurse in a carrier. It will be done. Hands free nursing, the ultimate achievement!
Fletcher is coming up on 5 months. Everything that he is has been hand crafted and built by me. His insides and out. I am especially proud of the rolls of fat on his thighs. He has never had formula or solid food. He is 100% me. I never I would want to breast feed up to a year. Now I think I plan on letting him self wean. I am going to fight the teeth and the biting. Will I be successful? Ask me in a few months.