I feel like superwoman. I’ve got knockers, jugs, boobies, breasts, whatever you want to call them. They are filled with gold. I am able to provide every single nutrient to my little girl through the milk that I produce in my breasts. It changes depending on what my babe needs at any time, and every time she nurses.
I began producing colostrum at 23 weeks. I was so fascinated and in shock when the first bit leaked out. It took me a moment to process what just happened. One of the many, but early “holy shit” moments I would experience in this journey of motherhood.
I know that I am extremely lucky to have begun producing colostrum so early on and enough milk for my babe. So much, that when l nurse my little one, if she misses my nipple once the milk comes down, it begins spraying everywhere. I imagine, the music video “It’s Raining Men”, but instead of a woman singing, it’s a baby dancing and singing “It’s Raining Milk”. Remember that blockbuster baby dancing? That’s what I imagine. Instead of a child outside catching snowflakes in their mouth, it’s my baby trying to catch the stream that rushed from my nipple. I could feel disgusting, like a cow, but why in the world would I want to do that.
I hear so many mother’s mention that they feel like animals feeding their young. After nine months of feeding my babe, I can completely understand that. Sometimes my skin crawls when my daughter scratches my chest when I nurse. Then that frustration got put in check.
I heard a mother needed milk for her newborn who was quickly losing weight; possibly due to the inability to produce milk due to trauma in the family. I passed my milk on and returned to my home so freaking grateful. Breastfeeding is hard. Having your baby latch, is hard. It hurts and your nipples bleed. It takes time and so much effort. Sometimes you don’t produce enough, sometimes your baby doesn’t latch. That’s the reality. The benefits far outweigh those moments of insanity. When the flu is going around and everyone but your babe is sick, it’s worth it. Give me saggy breasts, raw nipples, moments of insanity, because at the end of the day I have a healthy baby and I can provide other women milk who are in unfortunate circumstances, are unable to produce.
My nipples stream out pure gold made up of all the building blocks that give my baby those thick thighs and chubby cheeks, those strong bones, and a growing brain. Superwoman, one of the fembots from the Austin Powers movies, clearly not with bullets, but with milk.
Happy Boobs, Babes, and Bumps.