Actually, it should be Milk vs. Me. And milk is winning. I feel like milk, in both forms, is taking over my life. Pumping, feeding, burping, pumping some more...I feel sometimes like it never ends.
But in fact, I am grateful for this. As some of you know, I swore off breastfeeding after my last experience. My experience of being de-motherized when a fluke of nature happened and my milk never came in. (I apologize to any males reading this, but...come on. I just had a baby. What do you think I have to talk about besides breastfeeding and other such gross things?)
At the end of this pregnancy, aka 2 weeks ago, Andrew and I argued regularly about it. He wanted me to try again, I refused. I swore I wouldn't put myself through that trauma, both physical and emotional, ever again. Formula is FINE with me. But after my body kicked in and decided to be normal and produce milk like every other mother in the world, I decided to give this whole breastfeeding thing a try. Due to some physical complications (can I say inverted nipples on the internet? Well, I just did...Too much information? Probably. Sorry, readers.) I have difficulty actually feeding Leighton. But I am so grateful that milk production is not a problem this time.
Oh, and probably the best thing about it is, when I walk around topless (come on all you moms, you know you've done it too) I feel like a porn star. Natural cleavage on my body? Who knew such a thing was possible? But my question is, why can't I have big boobs and a flat stomach at the same time? Nature is a cruel beast.
I hope this highly sensitive topic doesn't offend anyone. If you don't want to hear about the status of my boobs, maybe you should stop reading my blog for a while. Because, let's be honest. They are on my mind alot. Because it's pretty much all I deal. All day long. Hey, at least I'm not posting pictures with this. Come on. Even I have limits.