Man the Pumps!

Listen.....can you hear it?  It's coming from the distance. There is a faint pounding of the drums. Perhaps a plaintive yet primal yell here and there.  Hear it?  There it is.  It's a war cry.  Angry La Leche Leaguers are not happy with me.....I'm going down people, going down.

Ok fine....there are no disgruntled boob milk crusaders.....YET!  But, I'm about to admit some things here, and well, it's not gonna set me in good standings with nursing moms of America.

Picture courtesy of Google Images

Heaven knows....if THIS is what my nursing experience looked like, this would be a different blog entry.

Let's get one thing straight.  I think nursing is great, I think it is grand.  I think it's absolutely amazing that our bodies can produce life giving nutrients for wee babies.  I do, I really do. 
As a sidenote: I am however completely opposed to nursing past 1 year, it creeps me out.  And the recent photo on TIME (totally creeptastic) did nothing to alleviate those thoughts.
HOWEVER....when you've been cursed blessed with bodacious ta-tas roughly the size of King Kongs fist it's just not so simple.  In layman terms...Double D's that have somehow become overgrown G's (you read that right, G'S).  This does NOT make a pretty picture, nor a tidy feeding time.  Simply put....nursing boobs SUCK! (you see what I did there?)

And worse than these boobs is the effort it takes to try and nurse said wee infants.  Due to their largesse I can't just primly pull out my hooter hider and plop a kid on the boob.  Instead, I pretty much require toplessness, so as to hold and manipulate my massive mammory.  It's disturbing when the boob is literally bigger than the entire infant.  Somewhere under said feedbag is the child and if you're not totally careful, paying attention and not holding up, back or whatever the boobie then the baby could quite literally be either crushed to death or suffocate.  Can you imagine?  Death by boob?  It isn't pretty.  Never could I nurse in the mothers lounge at church, or under a blanket at a friends house.  I can't stand and do something else whilst baby is suckling.  Instead, it is a full on undressed, sitting, holding awkwardly, aching neck kind of ordeal.  BUT, I am always willing to try it.

A little background....with Maggie I was completely prepared to be a nurser.  I wanted to give that child the best.  Unfortunately my ginormous tracts of land could barely produce a trickle of life giving light.  I would pump and pump and pump and MAYBE get an ounce between 2 teets.  Maggie also could care less about eating, so I had to force her to eat and since I was worthless, it was mostly formula filled bottles.  I tried to stick with it for 3 mos. but it just ended in a sad sorta way. Wah Wah wah wahhh.   Then came Max.  This time, I actually produced a little bit more milk, but not much.  I TRIED to keep him on the giant breastacle, but before 3 mos. he pretty much flipped me the bird and moved on.  Along comes Mayzie.  The girl latched on like an Olympic gold medalist.  She was a pro at birth.  I was feeling quite optomistic....I seemed to be getting much more milk and we had figured out a way for her to feed without imminent suffocation death.  Things were moving along nicely.  I even FINALLY understood what this whole "letting down" of milk was.  I'd never felt that with the other 2.  But indeed, this time, the factory seemed to be in prime working condition.  Zing, Zing...there it was.  My nipples zinged, must mean the milk is in.  And regularly through the day, or when the baby cried, there would be that ZING!  Rather uncomfortable at times if you ask me.  My boobs were spilling over any and all bras I owned.  I looked freakishly misproportioned. YEP, nursing was happening.  THEN....the fated blood clot.  They put me on heparin shots for almost 2 weeks.  Guess what....no nursing in that time.  I pumped and dumped faithfully.  I was determined to keep up my supply and make this nursing thing work.

My supply was decent.  The milk was there.  The shots ended and then I was back to nursing.  Only, here's the thing.  She has never quite latched the same.  She will give me a cursory suckle, but it just is NOT the same.  But you know what?  I'm also perhaps the worlds laziest nurser.

I admit it.....LAZY NURSER right here.  I mean really, WHO has the time for this, stop everything, sit and nurse this child for 40 minutes every few hours?   I've got things to do, places to go, kids to take care of.  At least you tiny boobed women can nurse places, or multi task whilst nursing.  But not me, not possible.  So, I find myself more and more just pumping and then giving her the bottle.  I will nurse once in the early morning and once at night.  Now, the pumping is getting less frequent and the actual nursing, maybe once a day.  Because frankly.....bottle feeding is just WAY more convenient.  There, I said it.  Hate me all you want you breast feeding purists.  But, I prefer to give my kid a bottle.  And it's OK!  When you experience breast feeding at my udders size, then come and talk to me.  It's a whole new ballgame. 

I guess what I'm saying is....breast feeding just isn't for everyone, and apparently I'm one of those people.  (Though I won't lie, I do enjoy what precious little moments we do have while she nurses, it's sweet, just not working).   I want my "regular" large sized funbags back, not these grandeose, out of control poke someones eye out things that I'm currently sporting.  I like to be able to feed my child wherever, whenever I want.  I like that anyone else can feed my kid.  Bottles are JUST FINE.  They're OK!  And know what else?  My kids are just as smart and just as healthy as your breastfed kids.  So there!

Yep....I hear it.  Man your battle stations........La Leche is a comin.

Boobsteaks and baby barf,

Allyson