
"Adventures
in Breastfeeding"
by Mimi Greenwood Knight
I
should have known Id be breast feeding challenged, the
first time I nursed. My husband, David, and I graduated cum
laude from our Lamaze class. We practiced and rehearsed till
we could pant with the best of them. I had a fantasy in my mind
of the perfect delivery where David held my hand, dabbed sweat
from my forehead and whispered encouraging words in my ear.
The midwife crooned, One more push, Sugar. which
was a breeze since Id Kegeled 3 hours a day for 7 months.
Then out into the delivery room air would emerge a perfect,
pink boy or girl whod take right to my breast, nursing
lustily and David would capture the whole thing on video.
Instead I awoke in my eighth month in a puddle of blood. We
drove frantically to the hospital where I was knocked out and
an emergency C-section ensued. At least thats what they
told me several hours later, when I awoke in a drug induced
stupor. But my lactation counselor was there so at least the
breast feeding part of my fantasy could come true. My perfect
little bundle was a girl and she was a beauty. (The prettiest
one in the nursery my mother-in-law informed us and kept dashing
back, when a new baby was born, to make sure we maintained our
status.) Even though Haley was three weeks early, she was plump
and healthy and had the good sense to look like her handsome
daddy.
The counselor helped me get her arranged at my breast but neither
Haley nor I knew what we were doing and the drugs Id been
given were so strong that I wavered in and out of consciousness,
finally conking out, dead to the world. No problem,
my lactation guru announced. She nestled Haley up to my breast
(where Im told she finally figured out what to do) and
told my husband, Here! Hold this. Then she left.
I have pictures of Haleys first breastfeeding experience.
They look nothing like the ones in the books. I am passed out,
head flopped to one side, spittle drooling from my mouth. David
is holding Haley with a befuddled Wont-someone-help-me
look and, sure enough, Haley is nursing. After reading and memorizing
all those books on breastfeeding, I have to live with the fact
that my husband got to breast feed our baby before I did.
Our third day in the hospital, David ran home for a shower and
my sister stayed to take care of Haley and me. I was still pretty
drugged and asleep more than I was awake. After one particularly
long nap, I awoke to discover the Titty Fairy had paid me a
visit. During one seemingly innocent nap, my breasts had quadrupled
in size and were exploding out of the top of my nursing gown.
I was afraid to move. My sister was dozing in a chair next to
Haleys basinet. All I could do was whisper, Pssst,
Denise, get the camera. Quick, get the CAMERA. I wasnt
sure if theyd be there, when David got back, (or even
if I was awake at all) so I had to get a picture to preserve
in our family history; the day Mom had bodacious ta tas.
Little did I know that wasnt the biggest theyd get.
For the next few weeks dressing was a challenge. Even the clothes
Id bought a couple sizes too big had a hard time fitting
over my morphed mammaries. But I liked having boobs, even if
they did belong to someone else. Haley caught on to nursing
and I began to see breastfeeding as the miracle it is. There
were still gray areas though. So, when David, Haley and I were
invited to visit my sister for the weekend, I jumped at the
chance. Shed breastfed four kids and I figured I could
pick up some tips. (Plus snag a nap or two, while we were there.)
Everything went fine until Saturday evening when we dressed
for church.
An overabundance of milk had not been a problem for me so Id
never opened the box of breast pads theyd given me at
the hospital and hadnt thought to toss them in the suitcase.
But, when I looked at the sheer, white blouse Id packed
to wear to church, I realized I was taking the chance I might
be standing in the pew with two puddles of milk on the front
of my blouse for God and everybody to see. There wasnt
time to run to the drug store. So my sister conceived the brilliant
idea of cutting two mini pads into little ovals and fitting
them inside my nursing bra. She figured a pad is a pad. Right?
My kotex turned breast pads were a lifesaver when, halfway through
the service, my breasts decided it was party time. What we hadnt
considered was that the pads were scented. As the breast milk
soaked the pads and I smiled at how clever wed been, unbeknownst
to me perfume was covering my breasts. When poor Haley woke
to nurse that night, she didnt recognize that funny taste
and so began one of the longest nights of my life. Shed
latch on to nurse just long enough to trigger my milk production.
Then shed pull away and cry. My breasts would expand.
Shed latch on again, more let down, pull away, BIGGER
breasts. Latch, grow, cry. Latch, grow, cry. I didnt want
to wake my sister so I sat there lactating and hurting until
dawn. Haley finally wore herself out crying and fell asleep
hungry and miserable. Sleeping was not an option for me. By
the time my sister woke up, I could barely stand the pain in
my breasts. She got me into a hot shower where it looked like
I had two whale spouts shooting out of my chest. It was hours
before we put two and two together and figure out what wed
done.
Breastfeeding has been as eventful and surprising as the rest
of motherhood. Theres only so much you can learn in books
and so much more you have to discover for yourself. No author
could put into words the way I feel, when I watch my Haley sleep
or when she reaches a wobbly hand up to touch my face. No one
else could tell me how much more Id love David when I
see how he loves our daughter or the sheer joy of sitting around
for hours talking about nothing but her. Like motherhood breastfeeding
is one of the most rewarding, exhilarating, exhausting, confusing,
amazing, life-giving things Ive ever done. I wouldnt
have missed it for the world.