Boobiefest (not Boobyfest, though he's cool, too)

I've been breastfeeding Nibbler pretty much since he was born. I was very gung-ho about the whole endeavor, but I'll tell you, it hasn't been easy. I've discovered a few things over the past nine weeks:

• drugs designed to increase your supply will sometimes make your boobs leak so much, you'll think your baby has peed the bed five times over.


• fenugreek makes your pits smell like maple syrup (but unappetizingly so).


• sometimes, neither boob will make your baby happy, and this is why we have the third boob, commonly known as the pacifier.


• while breastfeeding is convenient in the middle of the night, your husband can never really help out with it (rubbing your back as you hoist your kid up on your chest for the 5th time doesn't count). You may resent this despite your best intentions, if you're me.


• the trade-off for not getting help in the wee hours can be that Daddy fields all poopy diapers.


• There's nothing like a little side-lying nursing to make you feel like Fluffy, in a box under the stairs.
  


• Breastfeeding depletes estrogen, which leads to a lack of interest in reconvening the procedure*. This is tantamount to a divorce decree in these parts; times have been tough since Nibbler's arrival. But he's getting all his nutrients.


• Pumping makes me think I need to switch to soymilk if this is what is done to cows all damn day long.


• Cats seem to like stepping on babies who are chillin' breastside on the Boppy pillow. Yowch!

*Never fear, the procedure has been reconvened and who knows, maybe Nibbler will have himself a sister someday after Mommy stops screaming in pain. Kidding!