To wean or not to wean, is there really any question?

It was hard. And not for all the reasons I thought. I thought it would break my heart to lose the intimate ritual with my little girl. It did. I thought I would be overwhelmed by my daughters whining and tears. I was. But the hardest part of all, the part no one warned me about, was the hormonal ups and downs and the depression. That was the hardest part of all.

I wasn’t really ready to stop, but it was time. My sister-in-law (the baby whisperer) reminded me that Story should be getting rid of her nightly bottle soon and I couldn’t imagine getting her off the breast without a bottle to suckle. Then there were the books that warned me that the closer my child got to the dreaded two’s, the harder it would becomes to wean her. But it was two pivotal scenes that finally convinced me the time had arrived. 1) While paying for my groceries at Trader Joes, Story unbuttoned my blouse, stuck her hand in my bra and delicately removed my nipple to the shock and awe of the cashier. 2) A recent viewing of HBO’s Game of Thrones featured an eight year old boy King suckling at his mother’s teat and my husband kind of looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. The time had arrived.

I had already narrowed Story’s breastfeeding sessions to once in the morning and once at night. I asked Gabe to put Story down for three nights in a row with a bottle while I hid on the other side of the apartment. Then, when Mother’s Day weekend arrived I told my husband what I really wanted for Mother’s Day was to wean our little girl. He took over the morning and evening ritual and replaced her breastfeeding sessions with a bottle. We tried a cup, but she wasn’t having it. One vice at a time, I told myself.

By day three I was ready to go back to sharing Story's morning and evening ritual with my husband. At first, everything seemed fine. But then the crying and tantrums began. Our once peaceful little girl woke up screaming and kicking. She went to sleep in much the same way. Staying firm through the crying, and kicking and screaming and whining was hard. But this is what parenting is all about. And just like with the sleep training, I knew we would get through this and feel like awesome superstar parents when she finally got it.

By day five, my confused hormones began torturing me with moments of real darkness. Everything felt personal. My husband could do nothing right. One minute my husband had left his dishes in the sink, and the next I felt trapped in my marriage, contemplating divorce and daydreaming about abandoning my family. This was a first, and I’m not proud of it. Some might call it post-partum delayed. Fifteen months delayed. I was totally unprepared for it.

It’s been about two weeks now and the depression has lifted, I feel like myself again. I just sort of had to wait it out while being careful not to isolate or act on any of my irrational thoughts. My hormones stabilized in time to save my marriage. Baby is still fussy in the morning and night, but we have found that a new bedtime ritual has helped her soothe herself to sleep. We always had a bath time, book time, feed time and then into the bed sort of thing. Well now we do bath time, book and cup of milk time (that’s right! I got her off the bottle too!). We dim the lights one by one and go around the room saying goodnight to every toy and object. By the time we have said goodnight to the talking tea pot she is limp and leaning back in my arms begging to be placed in the bed. I lay her down on her crisp cool sheets, pull up the blanket and she hugs her little “z-raffe" with a newfound interest. I turn off the final light and tip toe towards the door. She calls out when I reach for the door knob.

“Buh”, she says.

“Bye,” I say. “Goodnight sweet Story.”

And just like that, another big parenting moment has passed.

Nursing Gear Essentials

Before the baby was born, I stockpiled baby gear, diapers, and rash ointment, froze food and bought enough canned goods and bottled water to get us through the first six weeks of a natural disaster. My registry essentials purchased, nursery assembled and refrigerator full, I was ready. But when I got home from the hospital with my precious newborn baby, we had everything we needed for her first few tender weeks and nothing that I needed. Like most first time breastfeeders, I had forgotten about what I would need to make those first few weeks comfortable. Whether you plan to breastfeed for one week or one year, you will need some basics. Where will you sit when you wake up in the middle of the night with your little baby? And what will you have within arms length to make all those early breastfeeding sessions go as smoothly as possible?

A Nursing Station: The first thing I did when I got back from the hospital was set up a comfy chair in the bedroom and surround it with things that brought me comfort. I had an ottoman to rest my legs, a throw blanket for my cold toes, a side table to rest my water and a rolling set of drawers for all my electronics, breastfeeding gear and burp rags. My husband lined the floor under my chair with an extension cord and power strip for all my electronics (laptop, iPod, phone, camera battery). I put the pump and a small trash can under the side table. The final touch was a pretty floral arrangement.

I know it seems decadent – but I spent about twelve hours a day in that chair for the first week of my baby’s life and I still appreciate every single convenience. The only thing missing is a small refrigerator for my freshly expressed milk. I settled for ice packs in a small cooler.

Nursing Clothes: I washed my daughter’s clothes and folded them into her dresser so they would be ready when she arrived home. But I completely missed the chance to organize my closet with all the button down shirts at the front. In fact, unless I planned to walk around the house naked for the first month of my child’s life, I needed some serious nursing gear. Let’s start with nursing pajamas, since you are in your lounge gear for the first week. The best I found, for the lowest price are at Old Navy.

This little set makes a great gift for only $32.50. And it comes with the most adorable little matching baby sleeper and hat. Old Navy also has two styles of nursing tops that I bought up by the dozen and wear daily.

I have four of these in white and five in black, don't tell my husband. But at only $14.50, they are way cheaper then all the other styles on the market.

This one is $19.50, and the added pop of seductive stripe clearly makes it more valuable. I tried several more expensive nursing tops that I bought from the Solution for Women store at Penn, but I returned them promptly. Most of what is out there is overpriced and preys on the desperation of a new breastfeeding mom just eager to find some comfort.

This $16.50 tank from Old Navy is similar to the $50 Glamour Mama bra, but the Old Navy was softer and offered me better support. I wore this tank to bed at night with a soft pair of drawstring pajama bottoms.

Also an essential if you are nursing is a good nursing bra. I tried them ALL! Literally. I went to the Solutions for Women store at Penn and I tried on every style bra in stock. My issue was that my breasts were ginormous and causing me severe back ache. I needed an underwire, even if they tried to convince me it would inhibit my milk production. Well, my baby is a little fatty and I’ve been wearing this Medela Underwire Seamless Bra since week 1. I maintained my chest measurement and went up a cup size. I highly recommend that you get fit for your nursing bra if you intend to nurse for a long time. I also recommend you get a night bra. I bought the Medela Womens Sleep Nursing Bra. When I saw it, I laughed at the idea of this little thing holding in my mama-jamas – but for the purposes of keeping everything in its place at night it was actually completely awesome. I wish I could wear it all the time, it’s that comfy.

Nursing Cover: I started with the L'ovedbaby 4-in-1 Nursing Shawl and then I bought the Belly Fish. Ehh. The cool factor of the grey suede on the L'ovedbaby is diminished by the fact I can’t see my baby while she nurses. My baby squirms under the hot fabric. But it does slide easily into my diaper bag and offers great coverage. The Belly Fish was great in theory but a mess to use. It's big and bulky, invites stares and offers poor coverage. I am still in search of the right cover, and have ordered the Balboa Baby Nursing Cover. Until it arrives, I find that two thin blankets work just as well as any of these covers.

Nipple Care: I went through a tube of lanolin before I even left the hospital. My poor cracked, blistering, bloddy nipples needed lots of TLC. It was cold in my apartment and the lanolin was hard to get out of the bottle – so I ordered some Bella B Nipple Nurture Butter and this fantastic cream smells good and provides a much more nurturing experience for my nipples.

Also from this line are a product I’ve come to appreciate even more, Bella B Nipple Nurture Cleansing Pads. I use one of these suckers after every feed. Not only does it feel good, but helps avoid things like thrush. It also means I don’t have to go into the bathroom after every feed and wash my nipples. Anything I can do to limit the amount of movement is a good thing.

Don't even think about getting through the first month without a handful of Medela Tender Care HydroGel Pads. These cooling pads of joy have offered countless nights of relief and are well worth the cost. Buy in bulk because each pad is only good for 72 hours. It's like an ice-pack for the nipple.

This list of basic new mom essentials made my first few weeks a lot easier and more comfortable. Those last few days of pregnancy, when everything is ready for baby and you are just waiting for her arrival, take some time to prepare the house for you. Make sure those first few days and weeks are comfortable for everyone.

My Breastfeeding Story

I didn’t know how much I wanted to breastfeed until the Doctor told me I might have to stop. Little Story was screaming when I tried to give her my breast and the Doctor suggested my breast milk might be the culprit.

“Let’s start with taking the dairy out of your diet and see if she gets any better. Come back in two weeks and then maybe we can try giving her some formula.”

I didn’t know until I left the office and the tears started flowing, how upsetting this concept made me. When did I become one of those moms?

Breastfeeding is a personal choice that every new mom must make. There is no right choice and no wrong choice, it's what is best for you. Before the baby was born, I decided I would try it. While I was offered many opinions from friends and family, they had very little influence over my decision. I wanted to try it. And since I knew it was going to be tough, I challenged myself to make it three months.

It wasn’t until they put the baby in my arms that my desire to learn everything about breastfeeding was born. There was my daughter, all of about four hours old, and I had no idea how to breast feed. Torn between the want to give her comfort and the fear I would suffocate this tiny fragile creature, I listened to the nurse talk about the proper latch as she essentially thrusted the baby onto my nipple. Little Story took it right away, began chewing and suckling like a pro. But then the nurse left the room, Story fell off the nipple, and again, I had no idea what I was doing.

I kangarooed my little Story, her naked skin on mine and I let her take my nipple whenever she wanted it throughout the night. By morning, I was sore and already starting to blister. They sent in a lactation consultant to discuss the proper latch. I didn’t get it. I attended a breastfeeding class the morning after I gave birth. I, in my robe, still hooked up to a heart rate monitor, soaked up every word of the specialist.

It hurt. My entire body ached that first week and I was tired, but I wasn’t going to stop breastfeeding. Little Story was a powerful sucker, she blistered her lips and gulped at the breast. The latch wasn’t always perfect, but she rarely fell off and was clearly eating well. At a breastfeeding group that met Monday’s at the hospital, I listened to the specialist tell every woman with pain, “It shouldn’t hurt. You are probably doing it wrong.” I wanted to clock her. I was doing it right. It just hurts.

By week four, I was tired from lack of sleep and my nipples hurt if someone in the room sneezed. That’s when the free formula started arriving in the mail. Similac, Enfamil, Gerber, Fresh Start, they all tempted me with their powder, but that just made me even more determined. Then something happened. At week six, it stopped hurting. It got easier. It became a well grooved machine. I was over the hurdle. Or so I thought.

The pain subsided, baby was going four hours between feedings and slept eight hours at night. I began thinking I could do this for another three months. Then one morning I woke up dry, baby screaming in hunger as she tried to bring something out of my breast. I took it personal. I had failed. My sister told me to throw my schedule out the window and let the baby feed whenever she wanted for two days. And it worked, the milk came back. I was over the hurdle. Or so I thought.

Baby decided to go on a nursing strike and stopped pooping. Again I wondered, Is it my milk? What’s wrong with me? Am I a bad mother? She would pull away when I put her on my breast and turn purple with high pitched squeals. It would take me an hour just to get her to take a few drops of milk and then as soon as it was down, it came back up in projectile vomit that stained our bed like a fifteen year old boy was sleeping in it. We took her to the doctor. Reflux. They started her on Zantac and the puking stopped. She settled back in at the breast. I was over the hurdle.

Perhaps there is someone out there asking why I continue to breastfeed in the face of so many hurdles. And the answer is I don’t know.

I can’t explain it. It’s a pain in the ass being tied to her feeding schedule. It can be embarrassing whipping my breasts out in public. I never know how much she has eaten and if it will be enough to get her through the night. My breasts leak when I’m having a perfectly adult conversation with a friend in the park. I wear nursing bras and the types of clothes that cover these up and pull down in front for easy access. It’s not cute. It seems like I would be thrilled that the Doctor is suggesting I switch the baby over to formula, but I’m not.

I can’t stand the thought of ending these special times I have with baby girl. I secretly love that someone needs me. My baby girl follows me with her eyes through a crowded room and calms from a cry the minute I take her in my arms. Nowadays, when she eats, she looks me in the eye and smiles while she suckles. She cups my breast with one hand and squeezes my thumb with the other. She pushes in close to me and we have this private moment. Just her, and me. And in that space, I can protect her from the rest of the world. I can’t explain it. I don’t really understand it. I didn’t even realize how much I enjoyed it. Until I thought I would have to stop.

For now, I’m cutting out the dairy and determined not to stop. I bought a few good books to get me over the next hurdle and I’m blessed to have sisters that call me every day to cheer me on. As my new mom friends navigate the world of breastfeeding, I offer my support. As well as a few tips on gear that makes it easier, post to follow.

My Breasts Are Magnificent!

Dear Story,

In case you didn’t know, my breasts are magnificent! It’s not just that they are giant and round and sit up under my chin like they did when I was 23. They are also functional! They produce copious amounts of white wet milk that overflow most of the day onto my t-shirts and jackets, dousing your bed and changing table with gushes of fluid when I bend over. I had no idea how similar the female form could be to that of a milking cow.

As soon as I hear your gentle cries, I feel this little tingling at the top of my breast. The tingle slowly moves down towards the areola and then I actually feel my magnificent mammary glands begin to swell like air entering a deflated tire. Once engorged, you latch on to my breasts with the ferocity of a barracuda attacking its prey. I gush like a fire hydrant and hope the force of the flow doesn’t push you off my breast. The combination of my flow and your grip make the time pass quickly. Between your gulps for air, you lightly cup the sides of my watermelon sized boobs in your tiny little hands as if touching the face of a delicate china doll.

Sometimes I worry that I might crush you beneath their weight. They are so heavy that just getting out of bed in the morning constitutes a complete lower back work-out. Of course, I wear a bra to bed to keep them reigned in so I don’t knock your father out on accident when coming back from a midnight bathroom run. Swollen to twice their size, my new porn star proportions have limited my wardrobe to stretch fabrics, v-necks and button-downs. Thankfully, I never threw away those flannel shirts from my Seattle grunge phase.

Let’s not even talk about my amaze-balls nipples! Hour after hour they are exposed to extreme sucking and nibbling and yet somehow they don’t shrivel up or fall off (even thought sometimes I wish they would). Like science fiction characters from a distant planet, the beaten down crusty and blistered nipples miraculously heal themselves between alternating feedings.

I once thought that all breasts were good for was a little extra male attention. But then you came along. I gaze down at you while you suckle and you stare back with those big blue eyes that see me like no one else before. I hold your little hand, you grip me with your soft baby fingers, it’s our moment and I know it’s my breasts that are making it all possible.

So Story, if you see me walking just a little more proud, straightening my spine to thrust my chest out before me, if you see me doing a double take in front of the mirror when I catch the girth of my side boob or the depth of my cleavage, don’t be alarmed. It’s only because my breasts are magnificent.

Love, Mom