Boobs. Any woman who has ever had milk inside of her duct work can agree that there is a good bit of time where they {the boobs} are no longer seen as the man-snatching mounds that once filled plunging necklines. Or in my case, inhabited a training bra. Once I experienced the feeling of milk filling my mammaries, my former funbags went from something I’d prayed for in puberty to strictly sustenance sacks. And off and on for the last five years, my milkers have gone from Mardi Gras bead-grabbers {okay. I’ve never been to Mardi Gras. And I’ve never flashed anyone} to Mama Brehms’ baby-feeders and so today, I celebrate my boobs! Why? Well friends, it’s World Breastfeeding Week {well, it just was, anyway}… Did you know? And in honor of that, I wanted to take today to reflect briefly on my bosom and the Brehm Breastaurant. So warning: I will be talking about boobs. A lot.
This is not to say that if you haven’t nursed, it’s a failure. As I often say to my 5 year old, one person’s success does not dictate another’s failures. I do not think nursing is easy. In my three separate experiences, I never had a baby slide out, belly up to the boob and guzzle down the liquid gold. I do not think it is for everyone. There are many reasons women choose not to nurse. And that is a right of every mama. I do not think everyone can make it work. From inverted nipples to poor milk supply to anxiety to work demands, there are many situations in which mamas just can’t make the milking happen. I do not think that moms should be made to feel bad or guilty about their choice. And oddly, even though I’ve nursed all three of our hooligans {at times, much to my chagrin} I do not care if other mommas choose formula, exclusive pumping, breastfeeding, or all of the above.
And my boys have primarily been breastfed. And it’s World Breastfeeding Week {and National Breastfeeding Awareness Month}! So let’s create some awareness of our breasts! And let’s celebrate this boob business! In honor of all the milkin’ mamas, I’ve put together some of my random thoughts on breastfeeding and what I’ve learned from it…
And I think my husband would agree. But honestly, I had to get over breastfeeding creeping me out. I know, I know. It’s basically sacrilegious, especially as a mom who chose to breastfeed, to say that I found breastfeeding to be creepy but for a good bit of my intro to nursing #1, I had to get over the fact that there was indeed, a human feeding from my boob and instead, realize that MY BOOBS CAN FEED HUMANS. Knowing other people who had nursed, I’d never been skeezed out by it before but once my milkbags were on the stage, well, at first, that took a bit of getting used to. But in the words of Peter Parker, with great power, comes great responsibility. So I had to stop thinking of them as Victoria’s Secrets and rather, as Mrs. Incredibles, and then I was able to get past the point of creepytown and plump up my little preemies without any heeby jeebies.
I never fed B on demand. I was on a strict schedule around the clock, including weigh-ins and lots of recording of our ounces taken and time it took and on and on. No wonder I was a breastfeeding basketcase! I was so obsessed with my supply, I didn’t realize that my stress was actually affecting my output. So, while it was a major timesuck at the beginning, on my second and third trips to the Boobfet, I nursed more of an on demand schedule. What baby wanted, when baby wanted… baby got. So even if I felt like a walking nipple for the first 5 months of H’s life, I think it helped me establish a better nursing relationship with my preemie, and laid a better foundation for sustainable supply.
:: Moms who work and nurse have three full-time jobs…
I basically haven’t worked in the first year of any of the kiddos lives because of nursing. I don’t say that to earn a medal or to boast. I say that because it’s fact. With their immune systems, weight issues, and tummy troubs, I feel fortunate to have been able to be home to continue nursing through their first birthdays. I have said it a million times, if you work outside the home, away from your babe, and you nurse/pump, I think you basically have priority parking in Heaven. You work, feed a human, and are a mother. Eagads! I clearly couldn’t make all that happen.
:: After nursing, you never take your own time, or body, for granted… at least for awhile…
When you nurse, there is always some amount of time you are tethered to your tot. This is beautiful in that I’ve found myself spending a fair amount of time with our babes but it’s also completely exhausting at times, being the only person who can actually fill the bellies of our boys. Whether it’s changing your diet, waking up at all hours, or running errands in between feeds, I think that it will take be quite awhile before I dismiss how lovely it is to be able to have freedom from the feeding responsibilities. And whether you nursed for two days or two years, you know the rigors that can come with feeding a wee one and I think it’s okay to celebrate your alone time when possible.
:: Nursing is a gift…
I’ve had friends who wanted to nurse and couldn’t. Until this point of nursing #3, I don’t think I ever felt gratitude for the experience of nursing. I have been able to decide if I wanted to continue nursing. I’ve always produced enough to make it last as long as I wanted it to. And I didn’t ever feel like the decision to nurse was made by circumstances beyond my control. I’ve had the chance to save cash by nursing. And I’ve even, this time, felt like it is something that I can provide that makes my peanut calmed, comforted, and soothed. Getting to experience this, after having two who were very disinterested and even angry while nursing has been a gift I didn’t know I needed. And if you’ve been reading since the birth of B, you know I never, ever, ever could have anticipated feeling that way 5, 4, 3, 2, or even 1 year ago.
:: If a woman is caressing herself in public, she’s probably got milk in her mounds…
I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve been caught checking the air in my tires. It’s a natural thing, once the boobs are in bloom, to check the progress of supply throughout the day. And so, if you’ve ever caught me feeling myself up, it’s just to see if the tanks are full or runnin’ on empty. And the sprinklers can get clogged if they don’t run every so often, so if I’m poking around, it’s just to keep the girls going.
:: Formula isn’t evil…
:: My other children have no idea how nursing works…
The older two still say that H eats from my belly. My boobs can be on full-display as I sit on the living room couch and I can call it breastfeeding and they still think I magically dispense milk from my belly button. And the other day when I leaked out Harrison’s lunch, Jonah let me know that my belly button was crying. Belly button, nipple. Tomato. Tomato. Regardless, they are not phased one bit by mama’s milkers and I am happy that it’s just second nature to them by now.
So those are just a few of the lessons I’ve learned from being a mama who breastfeeds. Have something you want to get off your chest about breastfeeding? Share your findings on feeding! And milk this celebration for all its worth!
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