I was built for motherhood.  I was built to feed babies.  There was no doubt in my mind that my breast would produce milk.  You get the picture, don’t you?  (Natural endowment — see image to the right) But the whole thing is rather mystical and amazing when you think about it.  I mean how did your body know to produce that milk when that baby came out? Amazing.  Here is the thing… This phenomenon should convince you, if nothing else does, that your brain controls your entire body.  (Ladies, you knew that anyway — I mean the biggest sex organ is the brain, right?)  But just writing this, I could swear I am lactating and I havent had a baby in 7 years! (by the way, that is not me to your right….)

The thought of it makes that tingle….

I am betting you all have some funny breast feeding stories to share.  One that comes to my mind is, as usual, right after I had my daughter and I was beyond tired.  Don’t even pretend you know what tired is till you have a baby.  I’m thinking God had the whole thing wrong.  I mean why on earth would you have to feed this baby counter to the clock of your body’s need for sleep?  To bond to it? No.  I think not.  I actually understood for the first time ever why people do really bad things.  I mean seriously.  You are just falling asleep and you hear a crying baby? The most horrible sound on earth.  And you wake up in a cold sweat because your hormones are dropping, your are certifiably crazy and might be qualified to be institutionalized based on post partum depression — and you are supposed to be bonded with the very thing that has entered this world to torture you, bite your nipple off and deflate your boobs…..not to mention make you fat, unsexy and  possibly ruin your marriage along the way (unless “HE” gets up or hears the baby.  My husband slept right though it even with a monitor next to his ear!)

One of those nights I just couldn’t take it anymore…I sank into a deep sleep  while that baby was next to me feeding.  I know I was supposed to stick her back in the basinette after burping her.  But she looked all cozy and…I…just…couldnt…keep … my …eyes…oppp….en….

zzzzzzzzzz………….

I suddenly woke up.  OMG omg omg where’s the baby????  OMG omg right next to me.  UNDER THE BLANKETS!!!!!! A HUGE NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!  OMG omg is she breathing.???????  I stuck my head down to see if I could hear her little breathing or see if her chest was moving. And discovered she was soaking wet.  What is that?  OMG omg its my breast milk. It leaked out all over the poor thing.  Yes she is now alive and well and 11 years old.

One last note for you — my son once looked at a scar on my breast, post- rejuvenation -assistance (another word for plastic surgery upheaval) and said:

“Mom, is that where they cut you to stick the milk in?”

See even he gets the miracle.

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