(I'm pretty sure that I nursed Frances for the last time on Friday morning. At the time, I had no idea. It's Sunday evening as I write this and I only feel a little bit uncomfortable/hard on one side. Which makes me think that this has been coming for a while. I'm feeling a little bit sad about the end of breastfeeding... And reflective... And glad to have my body back.)
Breastfeeding Worries During Pregnancy
I really wanted to nurse. I had this image of myself cuddling with a tiny baby, and being able to provide for that child in a way that I've never provided for anyone. Ever. I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to do it.
So... I've never been a chesty girl, but I expected at least some change during pregnancy. But, nothing. I didn't ever get the 1st-trimester big-boob syndrome. Heck, I didn't ever get the 3rd-trimester big-boob syndrome. I had no breast size changes, no nipple changes, no discomfort, no leaking, nothing. Despite reassurances from all the pregnancy books and from my doctor(s), I was worried that there was something wrong with me.
Turns out I had nothing to worry about. (Apart from the Hell that was weeks 0-10 of breastfeeding.)
The First Moment:
Despite my birth-story whining, we had a fantastic hospital experience. My birth plan consisted of: "If possible, and if safe for mom/baby: Minimal invasive procedures (no IV's, etc. if I didn't need them); Baby comes to mom immediately after delivery and stays there for at least an hour (so the Vit K shots and eye drops were delayed for a bit); Try to breastfeed as soon as possible; And no extended family allowed until we expressly invite them."
And everything went "according to plan".
When Frances was about twenty minutes old, the nurse suggested that we try nursing. It was weird, and awkward, and hard (only because I was in pretty rough shape), but it worked. The girl had a good latch pretty much from the get-go and the nurses giving me instructions were very supportive and helpful - breastfeeding for real felt so much different from all the explanations in all the baby books that I'd read. It was a good time. (Also? I had no idea what was coming up next.)
Engorgement
Oh, my fecking gawd. I don't remember how many days postpartum I was before the engorgement set in, but I do remember feeling awful. I was so full that my arm brushing against the side of my breast made me jump in discomfort. Steve remembers this time because of the stink of cabbage leaves wafting through our house - I swear by cabbage leaves for sore boobies to relieve extreme engorgement; They were magical. (Note: Gotta be careful with cabbage leaves. They'll reduce supply if you're not careful. Which would be a Bad Idea.)
Bleeding
Nipply bleeding makes mommy cry. I have many girlfriends who had it far worse than I did with this particular joy, but seeing the spotting on shirts and bras was pretty horrific. And having your nipples stick to breast pads, shirts, anything is... really, really bad. (I have a friend who stopped nursing after her daughter started poo-ing blood that she'd ingested while nursing. Eugh.)
Excruciating pain
I don't know when the pain started, but I remember that it was worse than labour. For real.
For weeks, I would walk around the house topless unless we had visitors because the slightest touch of a shirt/bra/baby on my nipples would bring toe-curling pain. (There was nothing wrong with the girl's latch. And she was getting lots to eat. And she was gaining weight beautifully. And it only hurt when she first latched, not while she was actually drinking. The nurses, etc. who were supporting me during this time said that my nipples just had to get used to the constant attention. It was pretty awful.)
I remember reading all the books that said that breastfeeding discomfort should resolve by about six weeks. I was counting down the days until the 6-week mark. Unfortunately, all the authors of all the books are filthy liars. *sigh*
So. Breastfeeding became tolerable by about ten weeks. It was comfortable from about twelve weeks. And it stayed pretty great for several months after that.
(Last spring, I was dog-walking with a buddy of mine whose wife just had twins - I commented that I once cried in anticipation of nursing Frances. He responded, impressed, by saying "Wow. Just once?" Apparently, breastfeeding two ravenous babies is worse that feeding one. *shudder*)
Leaking
You know how, when I was pregnant, I was worried about my ability to produce milk? Yeah. Heh.
I had a champion let-down and supply. Like, amazing. Like, I could've fed an entire football team. In five minutes. Flat.
I leaked impressively for about ten months. (For most women, the leaking stops after about 3-4 months. Yeah, not me.)
(And by "leaking", I mean that I would leak through super-duper-high-absorbency nursing pads. If I wasn't wearing a shirt, the milk would shoot up to five feet away. I had milk splatter all over my bedside table. Heck, I had milk splatter all over the freaking walls, all over my bedside iPod.)
(Surprisingly, this was probably the best thing about how my boobies reacted to nursing. From day one, I could feed the girl in five minutes flat. Which meant that middle-of-the-night nursing sessions would only last long enough for me to nurse her, change her, and put her back down. It was pretty sweet.)
...
(Ok. Post done. This is too long already and my eyes are starting to bleed. ☺ Will post Part II tomorrow.)
