Engorgement

I was told several things about nursing.

I was told it was painful.

I was told it was difficult.

I was told it was overwhelming.

I was told it was wonderful.

IMG_1855

Me and my massive cleavage

A week or so before I gave birth I went out with my mom to get a NICE nursing bra. We found one and I packed it away in my suitcase along with a million clothes for my little one.

36 hours after Clare was born my milk came in. Let me just say that I didn’t know what the heck-a-do-da that meant.

No one told me about engorgement.

My milk came in within a matter of minutes.  I was having a nice talk with my brother…he left…and I had milk all over my hospital gown.

When I went to the bathroom I saw my chest and I almost fainted.

My boobs were so big and hard they looked like Super hero boobs. They felt like barbie boobs, sticking straight out. It was insane and painful for sure.

When I pointed it out to Andrew he laughed so hard I thought I was going to have to resuscitate him. “No. Can I seriously take a picture?! Hahaha!”

I then cried.

I didn’t cry during labor.

I didn’t cry when I hemorrhaged and fainted.

I cried when I saw those things.  And by cried I mean WEPT.

Dolly Parton, move out of the way. There is a new folk singer with enormous boobs in town!

I then tried to put on my nursing bra, which looked more like little tiny caps on my huge balloon hooters. My breasts were bigger than my baby’s head.

I had nothing to wear home from the hospital.  I had nothing to hide my ginormo jongos. So I called my mom (weeping) and asked her to run to target and get me something…ANYTHING to make myself modest.

For all of your who are thinking of nursing…buy a nursing tank. Just do it.  Don’t buy a bra (do that later). Just buy the tank.  I promise you won’t regret it.

 

IMG_1857

Stop Val! You're suffocating our baby with your boobs!

In other parts of my world:  Can I say that I’ve become a junk food junky? Can I say that?

 

 

Advertisements

7 responses

  1. Wow. I can honestly say I have no experience in this department. I had a breast reduction when I was 18 and that prevented me from being abot to nurse Tabytha at all. Never got milk for Tabby. Since my body had been through pregnancy before, I got a tiny bit of milk after John was born, but it wasn’t for a couple weeks and by then he was so used to the bottle he had nothing to do with nursing. By the time Jessi came around I was hoping beyond hope that I could finally be able to nurse this child. I got milk, but not much. One of Charlie’s friends was living with us when Jessi was born so it made nursing that much more difficult for me to do with her because I was always trying to be modest around the friend. I never produced enough to actually be able to satisfy my children’s hunger, but with Jessi I hand pumped about an ounce at a time (which is all I had to give) and would put it into her formula so she still got SOMETHING from me. I wish I could have nursed my children completely, but it just wasn’t meant to be for me.

  2. Oh, I know what you mean! Though I hated the tanks, b/c they had those circles cut out in them which were such a joke as my boobs so did not have any hope of fitting into those circles. I was a G… yes, G as in gigantic…

    I vividly remember wondering what in the world it would mean for my milk to come in, why everyone and their brother kept asking if it had, as if it was being dropped off by a milk truck and then wondering how I would know if it did.

    ha ha..

    then I was nursing my son and suddenly milk was pouring out everywhere, all over him, blinding him, dripping down my legs, it was like i was giving him a milk bath while he was eating. I screamed for Scott and said, he could now let everyone know… the milk truck arrived.

  3. Well, I enjoyed my big boobs filled with milk….but they weren’t nearly as big as yours! Enjoy it while it lasts. About 2 years after nursing, my boobs are smaller than ever! I am going to have to trade in my bras for training bras!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s