Totally Pumped

Throughout my pregnancy, I studied up on breastfeeding. I took the classes, read the books and learned the necessary information. So when my little girl was born, I had a pretty good idea of what to do: 1) Disrobe torso. 2) Hold baby up to chest. 3) Commence latching. 4) Lactate.

I would be lying if I said breastfeeding didn't come with its share of surprises. That first day in the hospital, I paged a nurse to help me get the baby latched on, at which point she entered the room, grabbed my left mammary gland and shoved it in the baby's mouth.

At 5 this morning, I woke up to feed Evie and realized that the left side of my bra was completely soaked. And yes, I wear nursing pads. I planted Evie on that side, but when she slipped off, she got sprayed right in her sweet little face. She wasn't too much worse for the wear.

Despite these unpredictable circumstances, nursing has come pretty easily to me, and for that I consider myself quite lucky. As I've recently discovered, however, pumping breastmilk is a whole different story.

For starters, pumping is not very comfortable. You would think it couldn't hurt any worse than the baby, but you would be wrong. It hurts, especially if you're having a tough time getting the milk out. And when you're finally finished, the first time you let the baby nurse from that side, it stings like getting a tattoo on your nipple for about 30 seconds. (Note: This may be different with electric pumps, but I kick it old school with a manual one.)

That brings me to my next point: pumping milk isn't always easy. Unlike nursing straight from the source, your body doesn't automatically release for something that you don't mentally recognize as your own child. Recently, I tried to pump a couple times to no avail, only to realize that it was only possible under specific circumstances.

I have to be completely relaxed to pump successfully, which is tough when you have a fussy baby. I prefer to pump while Evelyn is sleeping soundly. Knowing that she's content makes me release tension, and breastmilk for that matter.

To my surprise, I can pump better when no one is watching me. This is surprising because I'm not a shy person. I can nurse with no problem while other people are in the room, but if someone watches me pump, I might as well have a clog.

Once I figured out what works best for me, I managed to stockpile a few bottles in the freezer. On Thursday night, a day before she turned one month old, we gave Evie her first bottle. Rather, Roy gave it to her while I tried not to freak out because my baby is already a month old.

She took it like a champ. She rested comfortably in Roy's arm and sucked down four ounces in no time at all. Then came time for me to face my irrational fears- what if she liked the bottle better than me?! To check, I served up a finale to her meal straight from the keg. She transitioned between the two flawlessly.

If there's one thing I know, it's that feeding a baby, like parenting, is a learning experience. You have to figure out what works best for you. The hiccups are not failures, they're just opportunities to learn more about yourself and your baby. And when it's all said and done, I get to watch Evie have some hiccups of her own, which is just the cutest darn thing I've ever seen.