Look, I ain't nobody's idea of the la leche poster mom. I am breastfeeding now because I did my homework and Mary played nicely. But I had intended to breastfeed Annie, really I had. But like most things in my life I just assumed it'd go okay without my actually having to like DO anything.
I did take a class. They showed a movie. The movie depicted an overty hirsuit woman (are there any other kind in childbirth related movies? Yeeg.) popping out her baby. The cord is cut and the baby TAKES IT UPON ITSELF TO SCOOTCH UP THE MOM'S BODY TO COMMENCE BREASTFEEDING. Yeah, I'm yelling, but come on. How was I not to think this was a piece of cake? The baby did all the work, people.
But that's not even the bad advice I got. I am not even sure how what happened there even could be framed as advice: Clear the alley from your hoo-ha to your breastages so that the baby may travel the path of least blah blah..
No, no. The worst advice came in my childbirth class. The RN who taught the class told us this welcome hint, "The night of your baby's birth, get a good night sleep. Tell the nurses to keep your baby overnight in the nursery-you'll need your rest." I didn't need to be told this twice. I never have to be told means by which to get more sleep twice. So she said it and I did it and my the time my baby met my breast, she had a taste for formula and a fairly intimate relationship with silicone nipples. I was powerless to intervene.
After the frustration of failed breastfeeding, I now know the truth. Never introduce the bottle if you want to breastfeed. Your baby won't starve. Their stomach is roughly the size of a marble those first few days. And the best advice: as soon as you can get your hands on that baby, do so and shove your boob in its mouth before it has a chance to think about it. I mean, this is such a crucial and proven piece of information. Someone might have mentioned it.
The downside to all of this is once you start breastfeeding, you are breastfeeding. You cease to be a person, you are a pair of breasts with a baby attached. You are always the star of the show and there is no understudy. More on the pros and cons to come. Boing.
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"star of the show with no understudy". Yep. My understudy is a pump who receives it's own greetings from my co-workers every morning. I tried to pretend it was a high powered rifle and I was a sniper for a while, but they stopped believe that.
I feel you. I got such terrible breastfeeding "advice" in the hospital it's a wonder we're still nursing. One nurse dribbled formula on my nipple to try to entice Molly to the breast. Um, what? Let's put some fake smelly shit on your nice, natural, sweet milk producing boob. That'll work. I knew when she came in my room with a bottle I should have shoved it so far up her ass her colon would have ads for Enfamil in it, but I was too exhausted to put up a fight, I guess.
Ah, Oona, I too have a serious and meaningful relationship with a pump. Oh the fun of "nursing" a couple of hard plactic cups.
ditto.
after my emergency c-section (drugged to the nines), i was shouting for maizie so i could begin nursing.
and i feared the bottle like it was hitler, but actually she took to both boob and bottle well.
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