NOT easy the second time around. Everyone who told me it was...LIES, ALL LIES. Or maybe it's me and my boobs. With my first son, it was painful, but gradually so. This time, it was excruciating right off the bat. I was instructed to pump in lieu of feeding because of the incredible discomfort. My first pump was an ounce of bright red blood. Gross, to say the least.
I had blisters, abrasions, scabbed-over nipples...the first two weeks were brutal. I decided not to mess around and go to my favorite lactation nurse again. She took one look at the baby's mouth and suggested getting his frenulum snipped, just like his brother did.
Once we had the procedure done, (which was far more harrowing for me than for the baby) he seemed to latch on better, but still chomped me like he was in the Donner party. My milk had come in full-force and was making him cough and gag from the let-down. I was instructed by the nurse to pump six times a day, which made me tear up in anticipation of how much work it was going to be to get this baby some breast milk.
By "work" I mean pumping for 10 to 20 to 30 minutes, six times a day. That's in addition to washing and sterilizing everything over and over again to avoid the dreaded MASTITIS. Yes, I said MASTITIS. And whenever I say it, or anyone else says it, I shiver with dread. It's the breast feeding mom's equivalent of saying VOLDEMORT in Harry Potter books.
But here's the thing...pumping helps drain your milk, which helps prevent plugged ducts, which is a big reason women GET mastitis. For that reason, and for the nourishment of my newborn, I will endlessly pump my poor, National Geographic looking boobs until I get this breast feeding down.
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