Moo. There, I said it.

I'm planning to be a full-time career mommy. That is, after my maternity leave is up. But how do I manage that and still feed Lori the way I want?

The answer was simple:

Breast pumping.

I had put it on my gift registry, but at $250 I knew it would be a long-shot for anyone to actually get it for me. I would be on my own.

Not.

Enter Ceci.

Ceci is a godsend. She had already invested in a Medela Breastpump System, but when her milk never came in, she ended up not able to use it.

I am now the proud owner of my sister's hand-me-down Medela Breastpumping System.

I had moments, as Mom can attest to, of frustration at breast feeding. Sweating and cursing and crying and just plain frustration. It felt like I was never going to get it and that Lori would never be as close as I wanted her to be. But I kept at it, cause just like sword-fighting and roller-skating, if failures aren't learnt from and one doesn't push themselves back to their feet, there isn't much point to the doing of it. So, I kept going, fighting back my frustration and complementing Lori on her efforts. I could sense her getting just as frustration as I was getting, and her frustration was coupled with hunger. (Which was a vicious cycle in thinking about it, as I was the source of both her frustration and hunger.)

And then my milk started coming in, and I thought Lori would drown from it. It was leaking everywhere! I would walk, and there would go a drop. I would sit, another drop. I would lay down, another drop. I would smile... you get the idea. I was a milk-covered mess by late afternoon. My nipples seemed never to get the right length though. They always seemed too flat and unresponsive to me, and Lori's futile attempts to latch on were only reinforcing that notion. But another day of working at it, and we've got a rhythm and a system for each breast.

TMI ALERT!
Faint of heart or my brother?
Read no further!
TMI ALERT!

See, my breasts aren't exactly what you would call... symmetrical. The left one is a full cup size smaller than the right one. It's a fact that has always been mildly annoying come bra and shirt fitting time, but something I never really worried about. With breastfeeding, it had suddenly become a major issue. The size difference meant that what I was trying to do with the left breast wasn't working for the right breast. Learning to breast feed is hard enough, from what I've heard, but that I have to employ two completely different feeding techniques and positions from one breast to the other is flat out retarded. But, it's what I was given to work with, so I guess I just have to make the most of it. Which I have!

Lefty feeding is somewhat detached. I can sit up straight in a chair and watch TV. She's just light enough to hold with some support for my arm, that it's easy. Just hold myself so as not to smother and we're in business. We can even look each other in the eyes and chit chat.

Righty feeding requires two pillows and a flat place to sit with plenty of space. It's almost indian-style, though my legs are more open. One pillow behind my back, the other on my lap. Lori goes on the pillow and the right arm supports her in a reclined position and guides her to me. The left holds my entire boob up and out of the way so all she has to work with is nipple. I'm semi-hunched over Lori, and while she can't make eye-contact with me, I'm much closer to her, since I'm cradled over her like a mother-bird. I've dozed off like that a few times already. Smelling her sweet scent, feeling her draw on me, and hearing her breathing.

All in all, I think we've got this breastfeeding thing down. At least for now. I wonder how it'll change as she gets heavier and it's time for public feedings...