BreastfeedingReading
RoomNursing is Wonderful, and Full of Suprises
Nursing is Wonderful, and Full of Suprises
By Karen Corr
Breastfeeding has been a wonderful experience with more than
a few surprises. I thought I'd read up enough on it before my son
was born that nothing would catch me off guard, but then I also
thought I'd be reading books, writing and knitting every day while
my baby napped. Right!
From the first time at the breast after he was born in October, Gerard
was a great nurser. We were very fortunate not to have any trouble
with latching, and he had a good appetite.
But nothing prepared me for the change to my body when my milk came
in. I was small-breasted pre-pregnancy - double-A - the kind of
woman who hears she'll never be able to nurse a baby without
starving the little soul. Don't ever listen to those old wives'
tales!
My milk came in the day after we came home from hospital and I
literally watched as my breasts inflated to Dolly Partonish
proportions! They were enormous and engorged. I don't know who was
more astounded: me, my wide-eyed husband, or my poor little boy who
had to try to latch on to breasts as big and hard as footballs.
Fortunately, I had a girlfriend over who helped this novice mom use
her breastpump. She pumped one breast enough to soften it while I
nursed Gerard on the other. Necessity annihilates modesty!
My husband
maintains women have a bond that goes to places men's relationships
don't. He can't imagine any of his buddies helping with something
so intimate.
After that one bump in the road, Mother Nature regulated my milk
supply and nursing was and is a pleasure. I should say for the record
that my bosom is still larger than pre-pregnancy, but it no longer
rivals Dolly Parton's. By the time Gerard was a month old, I felt
like a pro - nursing the baby while on the phone or in public. We
didn't need pillows or special seating - any time, anywhere it
worked just fine.
And then, a check to my ego. While waiting for my grandmother to
arrive at the Vancouver airport, I nursed Gerard in the waiting area
of the arrivals lounge. He latched and nursed greedily, then got
distracted and let go just as the milk let down. I watched in part
horror and part disbelief as an arc of milk shot from my left breast
and through the air at least two meters, hitting the back of some
other people waiting for arrivals. I hastily grabbed the receiving
blanket to stanch the flow, my face flaming as I looked about to see
if anyone else had noticed. If they did, their faces didn't show it!
It has left me wondering to this day what I would have said to
apologize if the people had been facing me. I don't believe Miss
Manners has ever given advice on that particular social faux pas!
And now, something I had never been warned of in any of prenatal
reading, my 4-month-old son has started to loudly serenade my breasts
while he nurses. Gerard literally beams in joyful anticipation at the
breast, latches on, then proceeds to hum at top volume as he eats.
"Ode to boob," a female relative who nursed her three little
ones calls this performance. It's very endearing at home, but forget
discretion when nursing in public with a little Pavorotti! On the
positive side, lots of people seem to find the serenading as funny as
we do.
And as my musical little son has gotten older, he's developed some
preferences. He decides that he likes certain breasts on certain days.
Some days he will only take right boob, and screams in frustration if
he's put to the left breast. The next day, he will only nurse on the
left boob and scorns the right - ignoring mummy's pleas to help
alleviate the engorgement of the neglected breast. Thank God for
breast pumps!
It seems that Gerard is not the only little one with a fascination for
the breast. I babysit three little girls two days a week and, of
course, bring Gerard along. The girls - 3, 5, and 7 - are all
fascinated with the baby and breastfeeding.
If, as they say, imitation is the highest form of flattery, I should
be flattered! I've inspired a new generation to consider
breastfeeding the best way to feed babies: The girls and their friends
now pretend to breastfeed their dolls and each other, playing at being
Karen and baby Gerard. The 3 year old still sits right beside us at
every feeding asking, "Where is the milk? Where? Can I see it?
Where?"
The 5 year old drew a picture for me that I have displayed on my
fridge at home. She drew baby Gerard and my husband, and then me in
such a way that I would never have dreamt possible as a flat-chested
teenager. She drew me wearing a red shirt and there are two large,
very obvious, black half-circle breasts!
When I asked her about this detail of the drawing, she said
matter-of-factly that she had to draw my breasts because they are so
important to baby Gerard.
Breastfeeding
Reading
Room
Breastfeeding has been a wonderful experience with more than
a few surprises. I thought I'd read up enough on it before my son
was born that nothing would catch me off guard, but then I also
thought I'd be reading books, writing and knitting every day while
my baby napped. Right!
After that one bump in the road, Mother Nature regulated my milk
supply and nursing was and is a pleasure. I should say for the record
that my bosom is still larger than pre-pregnancy, but it no longer
rivals Dolly Parton's. By the time Gerard was a month old, I felt
like a pro - nursing the baby while on the phone or in public. We
didn't need pillows or special seating - any time, anywhere it
worked just fine.