My Precious

      

 

Any nursing mother knows that her breasts become the personal property of her infant.  I am no different.  When we came home with little Anson, breast feeding was frustrating to say the least.  My milk did not come in until day 4, and with him being a big baby, he was Hungry!  The first couple of days home, I literally fed him every hour.  I was so tempted to give him formula just so he could get a belly full of food and I could SLEEP!  But my milk did come in, and breastfeeding did work out—very well in fact.  I love the connection it has given me with my baby.  The best times are when he wakes up early in the morning and he has been asleep for 6-8 hours.  He is Hungry and happy all at the same time.  When I hear him wake up and walk over and look into his crib and he sees me and starts grinning and pumping his little arms and legs.  It absolutely melts my heart.

There is another side to this story.  My husband and the nurses.  You see, we live with 4 nurses 12 hours a day, from 8am to 8pm.  When I was pregnant with Anson, myself and the nursing staff used to love to torture Kenny.  We would pick random names from Harry Potter and tell him that’s what we were naming the baby.  My favorite was when Jennifer announced to Kenny one morning that she didn’t care what the baby’s name was, SHE was calling him Dumbledore…LOL.  Yes.  Kenny has inherited 4 sisters.  And they all torture each other.  When you see someone that much, you are bound to become family to a certain extent.  And I love to laugh.  There are plenty of opportunities in our life to be serious.  So I love to laugh and joke when possible.  And there is a LOT of laughter in our home! 

So let’s talk about my wonderful husband.  He has come up with about a gazillion nick names for me since becoming a nursing mom.  Some of my favorites are:  The Milk Factory, Public Utilities, The Keeper of the Boobs, The Keeper of the Milk…Oh.  And he refers to them as “Barrels,” ..as in shotgun barrels.  For example, if the baby continues to cry after eating, he will ask me, “Did you give him one barrel or two?”  To which I reply, “what am I, a shotgun?!”  One day I had been nursing constantly, had not showered or changed clothes, had very little sleep, and realized I had been walking around the house with my shirt was down around my waist.  The nurses and Kenny often ask me why I even bother wearing a shirt at home.  Welcome to my world. 

So back to the little Anson.  He absolutely, 100% loves nursing.  It really is so sweet.  Him and my boobs have this ‘thing’ going.  It is like they are best friends.  He eats from them, he likes to fall asleep next to them, and when he’s not eating he likes to caress them.  I know TMI right?  Which brings me to today.  Anson had been asleep for a few hours and the ‘girls’ needed a pressure release.  So I waited as long as I could and then decided to go pump.  Go figure as Soon as I finish pumping he wakes up and is ravenously hungry.  So I put him to ‘barrel #1’ which he empties quickly and promptly starts punching (yes punching) my boob.  So I put him on barrel #2 , which doesn’t cooperate very well at times, and he gets mad and starts to head butt my boob.  When he realizes that both barrels are empty, he lets loose this pathetic, ear-piercing cry.  He was seriously heart-broken that his boobies were not giving him what he wanted.  Thank goodness the nurse sees what is going on and offers to put the milk I had just expressed into a bottle for him.

So a few minutes later he is happily taking his bottle, but stops after about 2 ounces and grins at me with milk running down his chin.  Of course I am relishing in this moment with my baby and am off in my own little world.  So I put the bottle on the table and he starts caressing Barrel #1 (his favorite boob) and looks up at me grinning.  Then back to the boob.  Then he starts pulling at my tank top.   “Awww, okay sweetie, Mommy will give you some boobie,” I say in my sweetest baby talk.  So I pull down my tank top, put him in position, and he actually giggles in anticipation.  Seriously.  My 3 month old baby giggles in anticipation of my boob.  I.  Love.  It.  So I am relishing in this moment of oneness with my baby as he coos and caresses ‘His’ boobie…  in the background I hear the nurse say, in her best Lord of the Rings voice. “Myyyyy precious….”  as she voices over the moment.  I look over and jokingly glare as she explains, "I couldn't help it, he was rubbing your boob like that little dude in Lord of the Rings."  Moment ruined.  Lol.  This is our worldJ  It may be crazy, but we try to have fun.