Yesterday I did something that made me feel like a gold-medal breastfeeder. (Cue Olympic theme song!) I was running around, trying to get everything ready for Cakie’s Diego 3rd birthday party. (I’ll upload a shot of the Diego cake later. I’m no Charlotte, but I can bake a theme cake!) So I was running around while the baby napped. Then he woke up. I threw on the Moby Wrap — a sort-of body macrame baby wearing device, and continued my running around with Trucker tied onto me, so I could use both of my hands. (If you watch the video link, you’ll see that you can’t really “throw” it on. Imagine me doing it while the baby cries, and the wrap looks all sort of twisted and unkempt.) Usually, he just falls asleep in the wrap, but this time he was making little grunting noises. When I looked down, I saw that he was attempting to nurse through my nursing tank. My bo0b was all slobbery. So I said, “Ok. You want to try that, huh?” I undid that side of my tank and actually nursed the baby in the wrap!!!! While I continued running around getting ready for the party. I felt like super mom. I felt like I should have been on the cover of a magazine, or something.
I have to say that the source of my breastfeeding angst is not so much the baby, as it is my right breas.t. It still hurts a lot. I think it keeps getting clogged ducts or almost-clogged ducts. But I can’t help but think that I could do something differently to avoid that, you know? Plus a good friend of mine’s wife got breast cancer shortly after giving birth to their second child. She’s in complete remission, thank goodness, but I can’t help but think that there is only so much battering a poor breast can take. The rational part of my brain is pretty sure the birth of her child and the breast cancer are unrelated. But sometimes the irrational part of my brain is a hell of a lot louder than that meek little sensible part.
I’ll just try to focus on the breastfeeding in the Moby Wrap part. Because that rules.