Breastfeeding Bliss

I am please to welcome another great guest blogger to the Tell Another Mom site. I myself may have not had very much luck with breastfeeding, but I could certainly relate to this humorous post by Shelbi!

shelbi_KleinMy name is Shelbi Klein, and I am a mother and a wife just sharing my story. My blog is called “And Then Came Baby” at shelbiklein.com. When I write I try to speak honestly (and hopefully sometimes with some humor) about the ups and downs of motherhood and marriage. I support every mother who gets up every day, loves her children, and manages to keep them alive. I don’t care if you breastfeed, formula feed, work, stay at home, gave birth naturally, or begged for drugs… You are a good mom, and you are doing a great job! 

I feel it has to be addressed. People always talk about the glory of nursing. Seriously, when I read about nursing while I was pregnant it all kinda sounded like this:

“Just so you know nursing hurts a bit at first, but as soon as you get the hang of it… the heavens will part and an archangel from heaven will come down and begin to sing songs of praise as you impart to your child the nectar of the gods.”

Basically… Nursing = beauty and euphoria

And before I continue, I must say I am all for nursing. I know about all the benefits for baby and Mom. I know that oxytocin (the bonding hormone) is released.

I know all this, and that is why I continue to nurse, but I would like to get real here.

Let me paint you a picture of my nursing experience the nursing mother:

It’s 1 pm and you are out and about shopping.. when you feel it. Your milk is about to let down. Great. Well at least they invented these wonderful, convenient things called nursing pads. But wait… why does your shirt feel wet? Oh ya… that’s right.. your baby was having a meltdown while you were trying to get ready so you FORGOT to
put them in.

To add to that.. you are wearing a white shirt and a black bra.

GREAT rookie mistake.

So now you must spend the rest of your shopping experience using your baby as a shield in order to block the two baseball sized wet spots on your shirt.

And you swear to never wear a white shirt again.

Fast forward to 2 am, and baby is crying.

He skipped his ten o’clock feeding. You know what that means. You have bowling balls for boobs.

Solid. As. Rock.

You could deflect bullets with these puppies.

Added bonus… they hurt.

Apparently you have a lot of nerves in your boobs that connect to places like your arm pits… all the way through your arms… your tummy.. etc etc..

And you learned this in the first few months of nursing when you could have sworn your newborn had teeth… maybe in a desperate attempt to get some relief from the gnawing… you even checked for teeth.

Maybe.

So if you’re like me… you grab your baby, and you sit in bed next to your wonderful, sleeping husband and groggily begin to nurse.

Poor kid.. you are so full it is like drinking from a fire hydrant. You listen to him gulp furiously. You watch him try to swallow the tsunami of milk rushing from your slowly deflating bowling balls.

And suddenly… when he can’t handle the roar of the milk…he detaches.

And I have two words for you.

Milk. Everywhere.

Just because you took the hose off the fire hydrant does not mean that the water got turned off… if you catch my drift.

And that’s when you hear it..

“What the heck!?”

Yes you.. you sexy goddess you.. have just woken your sleeping husband by squirting him with breast milk.

All those fantasies he had of his topless wife waking him in the middle of the night have just been shattered with one fair squirt from your milk fountains.

Glorious.

SO maybe the heavens do not always part, and the archangel does not always come down and sing to you. Nursing can be hard. Sometimes you just want someone else to feed the kid. Sometimes you don’t feel absolutely beautiful. Sometimes you feel like a cow. Sometimes nursing throws a wrench into romantic moments.

But I promise it is so worth it.

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