milk days

I remember looking at all these La Leche League clubs and organizations that promote breastfeeding and thinking, "why the fuck do people need a club around this?" I thought it would be on par with a club organized around eating bananas. Peel, then eat. What more to discuss? Well, turns out that breastfeeding is NOT easy--and this manages to be even an understatement. Things that can come up:
1) kid didn't get milk first few times, thinks of your breast as a stinking turd;
2) kid didn't get milk first few times, thinks of your entire being as a rabid weasel;
3) kid didn't get milk first few times, associates waking at all in your presence with the violence of a Mel Gibson movie;
4) kid makes sure you KNOW she prefers a pinkie, pacificier, her own fist, a towel, or a rabid weasel turd who co-starred in The Passion to your breast.
Then there's getting the boob to the kid. Position is all-important, but seems to vary on a daily if not hourly basis.
Say you manage to insert nipple and she sucks and all is right with the world? She spits it out. To scream until she's fuschia. The next time it could work as smooth as silk. There's just no telling. So...No wonder there are support groups for this. No fucking wonder.

And, my milk still isn't in. Dammit. I hooked up the supplemental feeder and gave her some formula while she was sucking my breast. Even if it conveyed a false sense of accomplishment, I was so relieved. She finally got food in her tummy. All was really right with the world. She finished the whole bottle. I was so proud of her. And then she smiled. And smiled more. And more. And more. What a smile. This world is a better place with her in it.