Although I am a big fan of boobies, it’s only fair to let you know right at the beginning that this is a post about breastfeeding.
Kind of.
I breastfeed my daughter exclusively. It’s the only thing she’s ever had. She had to supplement from a bottle her first week, but we were able to do it with my milk. She drinks my milk from me or a bottle (when necessary) with no problems. Now before I tell you my personal feelings on this, I know you already have your thoughts. Let me reveal to you what some other people think about this post so far. (Your thoughts may or may not have been divined by me in the following examples.)
1. ”I’m jealous. I tried to breastfeed, but it was too hard or I didn’t have enough milk or my child wouldn’t latch”… or the list of reasons why it might not have worked are numerous and painful.
2. ”Hippie.”
3. ”Breastfeeding…. I just don’t get it. It seems like formula would be so much easier.”
4. ”That’s cool. Good for you.”
I list these reactions because some people don’t understand how emotional and important breastfeeding can be to a mother, and some people don’t realize that the idea of breastfeeding is absurd to others.
Breastfeeding has been a total shock to me. I thought I’d give it a try because formula is expensive and breastfeeding is supposed to give your kid a leg up on not getting sick. I heard it could be pretty awful, so I figured I’d do it only if it was easy, you know….whatever.
Imagine my surprise during her first week when the thought of switching to formula after a few days of unbeLIEVEABLY painful and seemingly unsuccessful breastfeeding led me to sob uncontrollably in the shower. My husband was so supportive and encouraging during those emotional and painful weeks.
Also surprising was the feeling of success and teamwork and absolute bliss when she would finish eating and look drunk from contentment. I did that. We did that together.
And every time I cried from the pain WHILE she was eating, somehow it made me more determined that it was the best thing for her and I had to do it.
There are mothers who would do almost anything to be able to do what I do now: whip out a boob any time my daughter whimpers from hunger and have that need met instantly by something our bodies are syncing up for. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I don’t say this to brag. I say it to acknowledge how blessed we are, and how hard the two of us have worked to get to this point. I DO NOT take it for granted. (UPDATE: OK, so in public I don’t actually whip out a boob. I use a cape. Once upon a time breastfeeding made me very uncomfortable, so the cape is out of respect for the uninitiated.)
So why do I breastfeed?
Because I’m poor right now.
Because I can.
Because I should.
Because I want to.
Because I am made to.
Because she is made to.
Because it’s the hardest and easiest thing I’ve ever done, and that kind of complexity is what makes being a parent so damn awesome.
