Boob-Flash

So, Saturday was a tough day for me, and probably tougher for Clementine. She really is a saint to deal with me and my crazy shifting emotions. The hormonal changes in me are really making me more negative and then I have tons of negative messages running through my brain. It is hard to keep it all out.

Saturday was the big day for the supplemental nursing system (SNS). The lactation consultant was to bring one by for Hester's three o'clock feeding. As the morning progressed into afternoon, I went ballistic about lunch and missing meals and god knows what else. Poor Clementine had to be the target for my anger. Finally, after much crying and confusion on my part, I went to the bathroom to get myself together. I thought quietly about what is underneath all my anger and tears and saw the fears of breast feeding fueling my fire as well as my sadness about my parent's disinterest in my child. But mostly, the breast thing. I felt so scared of having to confront one of my dark places.

I came out and told Clementine what was going on and what I needed her to say when I got upset or frustrated. She was great and said she would try. I then apologized a ton of times for being such a crazy loon. It is awful when you strike out at those who are closest to you because you are so distressed. It is so counterproductive and awful.

So three o'clock came around and Hester awoke on cue for lunch. The nurse for Hester was a new mother (3 months) who has been nursing and had lots of great calming advise about her struggles with nursing. The lactation consultant came with the SNS and put it on me. Then, everyone, Clementine included, helped me to get Hester to latch on and start nursing. It was an amazing experience. She nursed for a bit and took 1 ounce of formula. She then got disorganized, as is one of the symptoms of her illness, and so I switched her to the bottle to insure she gets enough food. Later that day, when I pumped, the nipple she had latched onto had more droplets than ever before.

The actual act of nursing was not bad at all. It was a bit weird to have three people hovering over my breast, moving it this way and that. The feeling of Hester suckling was strong and so natural. I do not have any words to adequately describe it. I have done the SNS once each day since and every time she latches on, a powerful, primal feeling comes over me and I want to cry. These are tears of joy, not fear or sadness or loss. It is primal in that it is such an ancient feeling, like I am connected to all the mothers who have walked the earth before me, like that I am fulfilling some basic woman/breast function that completes me in ways I never knew I was incomplete. It is healing.

My friend, Ohio, has been a great support. She also was abused as a child and found the whole breastfeeding thing and parts of raising her children overwhelming with her abuse history. She is so wise and told me that it is not OK to have children in order to heal ourselves but it is OK to heal ourselves as we care for our children. Thanks Ohio.