I Can't Wait to Lactate!

Nursing Sammy after his birth

With just a little over four weeks until baby #3, aka Juicy Ghost, aka Caleb, is due to make his arrival, I've been thinking a lot about what life is like with a newborn.  Exhaustion and chaos abound, of course, but there are so many wonderful, sweet things to savor with a tiny baby.  I wish I could bottle up the newborn-ness (this is how I refer to all things related to a newborn), and it is such a fleeting time in the life of a baby.  I love the way newborns are still folded up like they are in the womb, how their hair is so silky soft, and how they suckle in their sleep.  It's all so cute!   But to me, the best part about the newborn-ness, is breastfeeding.  I cannot wait to nurse this tiny baby.

Okay, before you other mamas out there throw stones at me, de-friend me from Facebook, and stop reading this post, please note that I am not completely crazy.  Nobody likes the engorgement that make your breasts into rock-hard porn star boobs, and the nipple pain in those first couple of weeks is excruciating.  I've suffered through months of thrush, blocked ducts, and even mastitis.  My poor breasts are not nearly as perky as they once were (okay, that's a huge understatement.  They're pretty deflated and pathetic after two years of nursing babies).  But the amazing parts of breastfeeding make it worth the sacrifices to me.  There are countless benefits to nursing for the baby and mom, but it's not as easy as it looks to get started (check out PregTASTIC's breastfeeding series, episodes 12-15 and 149-151 for all things nursing-related).  I know that a lot of moms either cannot or choose not to breastfeed, and my intent is not to alienate any of these women.  Instead, I want to share how much I've personally grown to love nursing.

I wasn't always such a breastfeeding proponent.  The first time I had a newborn, Sammy, I didn't appreciate the beauty of breastfeeding at all.  In fact, before I had him, I knew "breast was best," but I thought the whole process was downright weird.  When he was born, I had no idea what I was doing and neither did the baby.  Thankfully, my husband went to the breastfeeding class with me while I was pregnant, and he actually latched Sammy onto the breast for me for the first week of his life!  Without my husband's support, I would have quit in the first week.  The first day he went back to work, I distinctly remember being terrified that the baby wouldn't be able to eat all day because I couldn't latch him on right, even though I had an enormous milk supply.  My nipples felt like they were on fire every time he nursed, so I was too busy crying my eyes out to notice how he looked right up at me as he suckled or that he fit perfectly in my arms.  I was consulting baby books and hospital discharge instructions constantly to make sure he was nursing at the right times, burping enough, pooping enough, etc.  After two long weeks, things fell into place, and we both enjoyed a full year of nursing.  It wasn't until after the difficult start that I could appreciate how wonderful breastfeeding could be.

Nursing was much easier with our second son, Gabriel, although it was still painful in the beginning.  Instead of crying through all of my son's first feedings, I focused on him, and it got better much more quickly.  We found our groove in the first few days, instead of the weeks it took with Sammy.  I attribute our quick success to me being more knowledgeable and less anxious about the whole process.  I wasn't worried if he was getting enough milk or concerned with putting him on a schedule, I was just trying to be present each time we nursed.  

I tried to sit and put my feet up for each feeding, but that wasn't always possible with a two year old running around.  I became a one-armed nursing wonder.  I could nurse with the baby in one arm and accomplish almost everything else with the other from cooking dinner, to playing with building blocks, to helping my other son onto or off of the toilet.  No matter what else I was doing, even when all hell was breaking loose in our transitioning household, I tried to enjoy nursing.  I tried be cognizant of the oxytocin high calming me down and filling my heart with love with each let-down I experienced.  It's cheesy, but it worked.

I was aware the second time around that before I knew it, I wouldn't be the most interesting thing in the universe to this tiny creature.  He would soon be curious about the larger world around him, and he'd want to check it out and explore instead of gazing into my eyes.  I knew that his soft, downy black hair was going to fall out, that his two tiny feet would no longer be able to fit in one of my hands as I fed him.  I watched him grow and took pride in the fact that I was 100% responsible for that phenomenon.  I didn't even mind the late night feedings, because I knew then that I was guaranteed to have at least a few quiet minutes with just him.  Like Sammy, Gabriel and I enjoyed a full year of nursing.

I know all babies are different, so nursing this baby might not be as easy as you would think it'd be the third time around.  I also have two kids to chase after now, whose favorite past times are anything that includes wrestling,  yelling, and general mischief.  I know that once we find our stride, however, it'll be great.  I hope I can savor those moments of quiet and appreciate the newborn-ness of baby #3, especially since this will be the last time I get to experience the beauty of nursing.