i have to blog about this. i have to capture this time in my life where i obsess over something i never in my life expected to obsess over. this whole breast feeding thing is amazing - really, it is. i absolutely LOVE the bond it has created between wyatt and i. i knew i was going to love it before i even gave birth to wyatt. i used to have dreams about breastfeeding, and i could feel the bond, even in my dreams. it was real and it was vivid.
but holy crap, those first two weeks sucked. i said it. one of my dearest friends used to compare the first two weeks of nursing to having a really bad case of short term tourette syndrome. it took about three days for me to totally get it. the first 20 seconds of wyatt's latch were absolute misery. i would rattle off curse words, in no particular order, but frantically hoping that the distraction of saying them would prevent me from throwing my newborn son across the room. i mean, ouch. there were times where i'd even prefer to give birth to him again because the lollipop head experience was beyond easier than what i was experiencing. (there are a few "other" postpartum experiences i WON'T write about in here that also took a close second to the actual sensations of giving birth.)
i got through it - and it was totally worth it. new mamas out there, and soon to be's, you can do it. you freaking had a baby. your nips can take the pain. it really only lasts 2 weeks - and buy these for sure. they saved my life. and my shirts for that matter. i didn't leak through a million shirts in those early days where i was producing enough milk for quadruplets. also, more advice - pump and freeze early if you can! i have to leave on my first over-night on sunday and am so regulated by supply and demand, i haven't been able to save a lot up for my kiddo! which brings me to the reason i am writing this post.
do i really actually hook myself up to an obnoxious sounding machine every day like a farmer does to his cows? do i really obsess over every last drop as if i'm a ridiculous collector of gold? do i really think that if one tiny drop escapes from the valves or membranes or shields (all terms i had no idea i would ever come to know because i never imagined pumping to involve so many pieces and parts - i learned this the hard way in maui if you recall) onto the floor of my man-made impromptu pumping station in my office will really make a difference in the number of ounces i take home that day.
the answer to all of these questions is YES. (and an embarrassing YES to that last one in particular.)
i literally, after every "session" peel back what medela refers to as a "membrane" just to save about 4 drops of milk. totally worth it. yes. it is. to me.
i recently heard this quote and it was my now-version of what oprah would call an a-ha moment: "whoever said 'don't cry over spilled milk' was obviously not a nursing mother". i know some of you are still with me here and going "ok, yah. i don't get it. what is the BFD?"
i'll tell you.
because hooking yourself up to an obnoxious sounding machine on a daily basis, every 3-4 hours, is not really a good time. in fact, most of the time its at the most inconvenient time. my personal favorite: 2am. you know, when everyone in your house is sleeping, and you wish you were because you are the one that actually needs it because you don't get to take a nap the next day. not that i'm complaining. i'm just being honest here folks. pumping isn't fun, and spilling what you've just extracted from yourself is wasted time. time you don't have to waste. time you wish you were doing anything but (my second favorite) sitting on the floor in the corner of your office because that's the only place there's a convenient and accessible electrical outlet. good times.
but let's circle back here. nursing is amazing. it's special and it's empowering. (... and all this talk about if women should breastfeed in public is annoying me. i said that too. aren't there bigger issues to discuss and even argue. really? are we seriously arguing about how and where and when women should feed their babies?) my obsession with my milk production continues as do the conversations i have with my husband about my boobs. even right now, he's shaking his head in disbelief that i'm even writing about this topic. it's been awhile since i've blogged with what some would call inappropriate honesty.
this inappropriate honesty happens to be the story of my life right now - and who better to share it with?
thanks for listening. and am i alone here? i know of a few readers that are with me for sure, and this one's for you.
crazy-obsessed milk producer, avoider of all spills and waste