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The Breast of Times, The Worst of Times
By Andi Silverman
This is an excerpt from the book "Mama Knows Breast: A Beginner's Guide to Breastfeeding" © 2007 by Andi Silverman. This excerpt was modified and printed with permission from Quirk Books and Andi Silverman.
Breasts are everywhere. You just can’t escape them. They’re all over billboards and magazines, movies and television shows. We worship the cleavage. Guys are hard-wired to stare, and even women check each other out to see how they “stack up.”
Despite all the attention, it’s easy to forget that breasts serve a real purpose. It’s rare to see people breastfeed, either in public or at home—it’s just not part of our culture. We tend to equate babies with bottles and overlook that we’re mammals. Mammals, of course, breastfeed to keep their kids alive.
At least that’s how it was for me. Before I got pregnant, I really thought of my breasts in only one way. They were kind of cute. Even when I was well into my first trimester, I didn’t dwell on why they suddenly morphed from an A to a B to a C. Breastfeeding really wasn’t on my radar. I was more worried about the baby’s growth.
Breastfeeding was perhaps the one thing I didn’t worry about when I was pregnant. My mom had breastfed, so I would, too. I naively assumed it would be straightforward. It’s what nature intended, so how hard could it be, right? Nevertheless, on the off chance that I might need some guidance, my husband and I attended a breastfeeding class. I even took notes. I had a couple of parenting books, too, so I thought I was all set.
When our son was born, I did remember to do a few things I had learned in the class: I fed him as soon as possible after the delivery; he stayed in my recovery room; and I even put a note on his bassinet telling the nurses not to give him a bottle or pacifier. But beyond that, it quickly became clear that I had no idea what I was doing.
As I held the baby to my breast, I couldn’t tell if anything was actually happening. Was he eating or just sucking? I tried to ask a nurse, but she was in and out of the room so quickly she barely looked at us. Wanting a little more reassurance, I asked her if a lactation consultant could stop by. Her response was underwhelming—she said that first I had to attend a breastfeeding class. Like a good trooper, I waddled down the hall and then promptly fell asleep in class. So much for my continuing breastfeeding education.
Somehow I muddled through those days in the hospital. But once we were home, I was in for a shock. My breasts, which I had considered big during pregnancy, reached truly gargantuan proportions. They were so hot and swollen, I stood in the shower weeping in utter disbelief. Was something wrong with me? I know I called someone (my doctor? a hospital nurse? a lactation consultant?), but it’s all a blur now. Eventually, I got some relief by pumping and making the baby eat more frequently to relieve the pressure.
Those early weeks were the breast of times and the worst of times. Our son was eating easily and growing bigger by the day. When he cried, I provided instant gratification. There were moments of sheer bliss. But there were also times when breastfeeding sucked—literally. If I forgot to put pads inside my bra, I leaked through my clothes. Worst of all, I was exhausted. Of course I knew that babies didn’t sleep much, but I must not have been paying attention during that part of breastfeeding class when the teacher said that newborns eat every two to three hours, around the clock. None of my friends or family had warned me. How could they have kept this a secret?!
As the months went by, breastfeeding did get easier. Along the way, I became increasingly bold about where I breastfed. I did it while dining in a restaurant, shopping for clothes, and even getting a pedicure. I wasn’t an exhibitionist, but if the baby was hungry while I was running an errand, then I stopped to feed him. I was as discreet as possible, but, quite honestly, I wasn’t focused on whether or not it made other people uncomfortable. I had to get out of the house, and the baby was coming with me. Bottles weren’t an option when we were out and about, since he usually clamped his mouth shut with a scowl at the first taste of a plastic nipple.
Challenges aside, breastfeeding was a bonding experience for me and my husband. We even had a comedy routine that went like this: Dad carries baby to mom: “Here’s Mama! The kitchen is open.” Baby spits up all over mom and goes right back to eating: “Boy, this kid can boot and rally.” Baby passes out from drinking too much: “He’s drunk! He’s actually milk drunk!”
All that bonding must have been a good thing, because one night we had a little rendezvous. Our baby was only ten months old, but that night his destiny as a big brother was sealed. Yes, we learned the hard way that breastfeeding is not foolproof birth control. You can get pregnant while you’re breastfeeding. Trust me. It happened to me, and it could happen to you, too.
The day I found out I was pregnant was also the day I decided to start weaning. My breasts ached, and I didn’t have the physical energy to feed one child while another was growing inside of me. Weaning, however, wasn’t exactly easy. At first, my son refused to take a bottle or sippy cup of formula, and I was afraid he would dehydrate. He launched at least five different types of cups across the apartment before finally accepting one. As for me, I got engorged again since my breasts didn’t know what to do with all the milk he wasn’t drinking. This time, luckily, I knew how to fix the problem. All told, it took a month for the baby to kick his nursing habit and for me to turn off the faucets. Of course there was the day, more than a week after he finished breastfeeding, when I spontaneously erupted, soaking our sheets and even the mattress pad.
Now I’m on to Baby 2. For the most part, it’s been smooth sailing. There have even been glorious days, when he stops sucking, looks up at me, says “Ah bah bah bah” and then goes right back to eating. But we’ve had our rough spots. He was such a sleepy newborn that I had to wake him up to nurse. And lately, I’ve breastfed while running after his older brother in the playground. It’s not pretty.
I can still remember one of the last times I nursed our older son. I was sitting in a rocking chair, staring at the river and watching the sunrise. I don’t know when that final day will come with our second baby, but I think it’s soon. Of course, things could change. Maybe he’ll be a bit older than I intend. Maybe a bit younger. No matter when it happens, I know I’ll look back on this stage with nostalgia.
Finally, this time around I have a few things on my personal weaning list. First, I want a picture of mom and babe. Nothing cheesy. Just a nice image of the two of us snuggled together. Second, since I won’t be pregnant this time around, I have a big plan. I’m throwing out my nursing bras and heading to the department store. I can’t wait to see what size I’ll be.
***
After two babies, I certainly have my share of war stories. But all moms do, whether they breastfeed or bottle feed. Which brings me to an important point—breastfeeding is truly a matter of personal choice. It’s up to you. Your life, your decision. Do some reading, get expert advice, and then make up your own mind. Whatever happens, don’t despair. Whether you breastfeed for one week, one month, one year, or longer, you’ll be the center of your baby’s universe.
As for me, I started to write Mama Knows Breast when I realized that I knew more about my baby’s car seat, stroller, and crib than I did about breastfeeding. So I did my homework and talked to doctors, lactation consultants, and moms. The result is a collection of all the things I wish someone had told me when I was pregnant for the first time.
I wish I had known about the ups and downs of breastfeeding (chapter 1) and how to actually do it (chapters 2 and 3). I really wish someone had warned me about the lack of sleep (chapter 4). I was able to muddle my way through breastfeeding in public (chapter 5), and my husband and I managed to figure out how to make breastfeeding a “couple’s” activity (chapter 6). But I would’ve loved honest information about how breastfeeding can affect your sex life (chapter 7); and I really needed some guidance on weaning (chapter 8).
So think of this book as your new breast friend. Imagine sitting around a table with your friends and letting it all hang out. What would they say about biting teeth? Stockpiling pumped milk and formula? Warding off husbands? Whatever their advice, they would be there for you. Now Mama Knows Breast is here for you, too.
If you’re still expecting, start banking your sleep now. Put this book down and take a nap or call it a night. If your baby is already born, prop your feet up on your ottoman, latch him onto your breast, and wedge this book under his bottom. Gently turn the page with one hand while supporting his head with the other one. If he’s older, be prepared to keep him from ripping the pages apart.
Bon appetit!
About Andi Silverman
Andi Silverman became a mom in September 2004. Still breastfeeding 10 months later, she got pregnant again! Who said breastfeeding was birth control?!
Before working as a mom, Andi was a lawyer and journalist. She was an on-air reporter for the CBS and Fox affiliates in Boston, and is a graduate of Brown University, the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism and the University of Virginia School of Law.
"Mama Knows Breast: A Beginner's Guide to Breastfeeding," is the essential new-mom's guide to nursing--full of friendly, frank, and reassuring advice. "Mama Knows Breast" is published by Quirk Books and recommended by Lamaze International.
Andi also writes the Mama Knows Breast blog.
More information from womenshealth.gov:
Content last updated March 31, 2008.
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