Breast Pads

Do you remember those? Oh my goodness, how the memories came "flooding" back as I found one at the bottom of my underwear drawer this morning! Some of you may still be in the midst of that initial swelling and soggy breastfeeding, and I can only say two things: 1. enjoy it; 2. it does get better.

When I think back to my first experience with breastfeeding, I feel like a complete idiot. It was horrible. I had issues that my doctor convinced me were not issues, and a wonderful lactation consultant who aided and abetted but finally admitted that my daughter and I were not breastfeeding compatible. (Long story short, really.) That was definitely not fine. I had just suffered a traumatic birth with an emergency c-section, I was stuck on an island a million miles away from home, in a hospital with a leaky ceiling and a rat in the elevator, I was way too young to be having a baby, and now I sucked even more because my child wouldn't suck on me. Talk about lack of bonding, and in hindsight I am not at all shocked at the events that thrust me into horrible postpartum depression. Anyways. Breastfeeding Nazi that I felt I was, and with a bit of pressure from those around me, I pumped. I pumped every three hours (or so) for exactly 6 months (because that's how long my Mom nursed her kids). In the morning I could easily extract 12-16 oz... I was a milking machine, and literally felt like a cow connected to my fancy dancy dual pump that I could even take with me in the car should we be out for the day. Ironically, my daughter suffered from some small medical issues that were resolved as soon as we switched her from breast milk to formula. But for six months I pumped, and I was a provider of nourishment. With all that I was going through, it was the least I could do and it was the best I could be as a mother.

When I was pregnant with my second child, I was determined to work with my doctor ahead of time, and try again to nurse sans pump. Pumping had actually helped resolving some of my "issues"... so that was a blessing. Months before my child was born I was leaking milk. Literally could squirt across the room. (I know you wanted to know that.) Insert memory of breast pads. I was blessed with a sweet, quiet, sleeping, practically perfect nurser. And breastfeeding took on a whole new meaning for me. Once we got the hang of it, and besides a few bouts with mastitis, I loved breastfeeding. At one point I tried pumping so I could take off for a day, and I couldn't believe how much it HURT to pump. Not knowing the alternative, I had never imagined. Breastfeeding was beautiful and bonding. However, I was soon pregnant and didn't have enough milk for my baby and so we had to substitute with formula and bottles as well.

My third wasn't as easy to nurse as my second, but still nursed incredibly well. And OFTEN. He refused to take a bottle, pacifier, anything and I succumbed to not only using the breast for feeding, but comfort as well. He nursed for around 15 months, when Mr. Man and I went away for a week and he had to be weaned.

And now my 18 month old, whom I had labeled as "the un-weanable" baby is still nursing. And I have such mixed feelings. Mr. Man and I even went away for a week... and I had weaned him for a week before, and now we are back to our old habits. And we're both to blame. I love nursing him. It is so easy to sneak in an extra hour of sleep in the morning with him snuggled up next to me latched on and dreaming. I thought I would be horrified to have a child who could "ask" to be nursed, but I actually love that he can sense when he needs that extra comfort, love, or perhaps even nourishment, and can tell me. I've come to the point where I don't feel embarrassed of my mothering him this way; I feel confident in my choice. I know I don't want to be nursing him as a reward for potty-training, and so I see us quitting sometime before he hits three! But for now, I will enjoy this last baby of mine and the uniqueness of nursing and holding a child of God in my arms for longer intervals than a wiggly 18 month old would ever commit to were he not nursing. But I am grateful I no longer need those awkward breast pads!