When Alva was born, I made the decision to give breastfeeding the old college try. I had heard from a variety of friends on their varying levels of success or failure with breastfeeding, so I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew it wouldn’t necessarily be the easiest task in the world but that in the end it would all be worth it. I don’t think I factored in the fact that I’d basically be tethered to the child constantly, at least until I purchased my pump a week ago. All in all, breastfeeding has been a tremendous success. It’s the easiest thing I’ve had to deal with as far as taking care of the child. We both took to it quite naturally and he definitely is getting enough food to be satisfied. Moreover I’m not having to make a bottle at 3 am when I’m half asleep, all I have to do is pop a boob in his mouth and we’re good to go. It will be interesting to see how this works once I’ve gone back to work and am having to pump regularly. My place of employment doesn’t exactly have a room I can go into to take care of pumping and I don’t exactly find the bathroom to be the most sanitary of locations for pumping. I have a feeling I’ll be hanging out in my car in a corner of the parking garage with the breast shield hooked up to one boob at a time, pumping away. I hope I have my body on a schedule by then so that I’m not in discomfort, waiting to empty out my udders while the stresses of work keep me chained to my desk.
So, yeah, this has been the easy part of childrearing thus far…except at 2 in the morning when all I want to do is sleep and all my boobs want to do is make milk, now that hasn’t been easy. Just a half-asleep two-legged feedbag, dozing off with my child latched to my breast while seated in the glider in his nursery, listening to sports talk radio in the middle of the night. Things could be worse, I suppose…he could be an overly fussy baby that had food allergies and had to have formula. I should count my blessings.