“I’ll try to do it for six weeks at least.”
“I’m going to go for four months, until we introduce cereal, at least.”
“Maybe six months will be the cutoff.”
Now we’re at six months of breastfeeding and it’s not getting any harder nor is it getting any easier. To be honest, while pregnant I had intended to breastfeed for a full year. When you’re pregnant, nine months sounds like a long time, so saying you’re going to do something for twelve months is almost a flight of fancy. I am now halfway through my initial twelve month plan, and I’m wondering when I will stop.
I never really thought about breastfeeding longer than a year, only because that seemed SO far away. When Piper was born I was just all about taking it one step at a time. I was lucky in that my milk came in just under two days, and the latch wasn’t terrible. Of course, breastfeeding at the start was painful, the connective tissues of the nipple have to break (inside) in order for the baby to be able to get a good latch. When this happens it’s painful, but necessary. When lactation consultants say “correct” breastfeeding shouldn’t hurt, it’s a lie. It DOES hurt. It HAS to at first, your normally smallish nipple needs to be pulled/sucked into your baby’s mouth, so they can feed well. That doesn’t always hurt, it eventually stops, at least mine did. My nipples cracked and bled slightly.
When my milk came in, I just noticed my breasts felt heavy, solid and tender. The lactation consultant came in to see how I was doing with feeding Piper the colostrum I had been leaking for a long time. When I told her my milk was in, she didn’t believe me. “I think you’re talking about colostrum” Listen lady, I know colostrum, okay? So I unveiled my lovelies (ha, not anymore) for her and she said, “Oh, yeah, your milk is in.” Jesus, I know I’m a newbie, but I KNOW when my breasts are engorged, god. Since this was the second LC (the first came in when I was loopy from painkillers and extremely sleep-deprived, and I literally nodded off while she was talking), she told me I needed to get nipple shells for flat nipples. Yeah, these were a.) useless as my nipples were NOT flat b.) painful and c.) ugly and a pain in the ass. The way it works is, there are two pieces to each shell, the rounded half dome has a few holes in it (the holes are at the top of the shell, otherwise your milk will slosh out) and there is a flat rubber part with a rounded edge hole in the middle, that your nipple is supposed to go through before you snap the flat part onto the domed part. This creates a type of suction which is supposed to draw your nipple out. Well, it’s painful. It’s painful and your nipple ends up looking like a gross meatball. Piper didn’t latch ANY better, and if anything, these shells were a hassle, my milk kept pouring out while I’d just be sitting there, sloshing up to the holes and out of my bra- despite the two thin half-moon absorbent foam inserts that are supposed to soak up the milk.
I kept them on for the three days we remained in the hospital (I didn’t want them to notice I wasn’t wearing them and get mad, STUPID AMBER), but tossed ‘em when I got home. Those suckers were $20.00! I think they just wanted us to buy buy buy. I put the medela lanolin on my nipples, but Piper hated it. Eventually, she got used to eating and wasn’t chomping down with her gums, and by the second week of her life, we were feeding as a pro. Ha, “we”.
I am insanely lucky that I had enough milk for Piper (in the beginning I had too much and dumped it like a moron, thinking it would be that way our whole time), that her latch was excellent, and that my nipples toughened up. This, like pregnancy, is another thing I think I was built for, which is good, since I obviously suck at delivery and math. Maybe god was making up for my inability to count sans hands and feet, and blessing me with this (and cursing me with a teeny pelvis). Either way, we really got into a good routine- Mommy and Piper sitting on the couch, nursing and napping. Funny thing is, the Boppy never helped me breastfeed. Never. My boobs were FAR too large to feed her on the pillow. It was easier to just get a couch pillow or my bed pillow to lay on my lap (as they were thinner and more easily conformable) and feed Piper that way. Since day one of our nursing, I had to hold my boob to avoid smushing her face and smothering her. This is a pain in the middle of the night, but necessary. Otherwise my squishy boob would fold over her nose like dough rising out of a bowl. Even now, when her hands are stronger and her head is stable, she still needs help getting out from under this mound of flesh.
I can’t say breastfeeding is easy. I don’t think being the sole provider of someone’s food is easy. There is the constant worry of having enough to feed them, making sure nothing in your milk is offensive to them or can affect them (spicy, gassy foods), and that there are no issues (clots of milk or mastitis). I am super glad I don’t have to deal exclusively with bottles, though, as being a worrier (and having had Piper’s weight loss at her last appointment), I know I’d be obsessive with amounts, pumping and making sure she eats enough, even if bottle feeding is easier in other ways. Right now, I’m thankful I’m able to still be the sole provider of Piper’s nourishment, even if it’s highly stressful. I do still have a ton of formula still in our cabinets, though, just in case. It’s a semi-good thing that I’m kind of in the dark about how many ounces Piper takes a day, I would end up laying awake at night wondering if she’s going to bed hungry.
At six months of exclusively breastfeeding, it goes well. I know Piper seems to be doing well enough that the doctor isn’t worried about her recent weight loss (and next time you can bet I’m going to feed her before we leave just like the time before last time), and she’s happy and just as much of a love as ever. I’m going to just keep taking each day as it comes, as long as we’re all happy and healthy, I figure breastfeeding will remain Piper’s main provider of calories, even if she starts eating more solid food.
I’ll let you know what happens. 
