My boobs
I think I love my boobs now more than I did before I had a baby. They’re awesome. They feed him, make him happy, quiet him, comfort him, help him sleep. They are my golden ticket to a happy little man.
Breast feeding is an experience I would never want to give up. Sometimes it brings me to tears, which are now of joy rather than pain.
I remember waiting for my milk to come in after Joshua was born. Two days after giving birth my armpits started to hurt and there was a lump in one of them. I thought the worst, “Oh no. I have Cancer.” But it was just my milk coming in, and my boobs would never be the same again.
What an experience. My boobs turned into giant boulders that almost brought me to tears. I think I got a taste for what implants might feel like. And when those sweet little lips brushed up against them, milk shot out of them like water from a fire hose. Which would have been embarrassing if I didn’t have giving birth to compare it to.
And the leaking. Everywhere. I felt like I was a diary factory.
What a gift though, to continue growing my little baby. I didn’t even mind being on call 24/7, although the hour and a half feedings at 3am were a bit tedious.
It probably took so long because, getting a proper latch is like trying to fit a triangle into a square hole. My sweet little angel seemed to have sandpaper for a tongue. He even gave me a hickie on my nipple.
The first two months were the toughest. After that breastfeeding became comfortable. I worked on mastering the cradle hold and my little guy learned how to latch on properly without me manhandling his head like a pez dispenser.
Now that the pain is gone breastfeeding is a dream. Well the feeding part anyway. My boobs still ebb and flow like the ocean and they often runneth over, onto my sheets, at 3am. But those nights are few and far between.
So here I am at nine months in, totally in love with my baby and his milk jugs.
~Michelle
Labels: Boobs, Breast feeding, Michelle, milk, nursing
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