|I'm hungry, mama!|
That is way too many words. They all terrify me.
I made the decision to attempt induced lactation well before we chose our gestational surrogate. Another one of those, well if I can't do that, maybe I could do this....kind of things. She, and our health care providers (hers and mine) have been fully supportive. Curious, kind of new to the idea themselves, but total cheerleaders. For the past two months, I've been dutifully taking my pills, eating my oatmeal, stocking up on herbs for later, watching my boobs expand and grow along with my husband's eyes. Whoa.
But this week, this week right here is where the rubber hits the road, or rather, the suction cup hits the tit. And I confess, I'm nervous.
What if it doesn't work? What if it hurts? What if I just can't manage the schedule. Every three hours? Before the baby even gets here? For real?
I've already told myself all I can do is try. Stick with it. Have at it. All that. I'm not going to beat myself up if my nipples don't secrete the nectar of the gods. I've already resigned myself to that fact that most books on breastfeeding suck (ha). No, really. Save your money. They really do. It took me several attempts at various libraries to find one that didn't spend 100+ pages on why breast milk is essential to your child's health and manufacturers of formula are the devil.
Spare me, eye-rolls the imitation similac-eating, survived-just-fine grown up over here.
In the end, the only one I've liked so far is one I found nestled in my pile of boxes. This one. The edition I have is old. It still talks about car seats as an option. (can you imagine?) But it spends 2 pages, not 100, on the value of breast milk and then gets into the nitty gritty. Like, pictures. And charts, And troubleshooting tips, and best of all, it doesn't use the cooing, soothing, you just had a baby so your brain must be mush language that so much of this shit does. It doesn't assume your baby will be ok or that you will manage this just fine. There is a robust chapter on Special Moms, Special Babies. I confess, I haven't read this cover to cover yet, but I think its one I will actually use as a reference. Phew.
Because I can't do the support group thing, guys. I just can't. Not yet. Not now. Maybe never. We were at a local hospital the other day visiting M's mom who had a minor procedure and just in case all of my triggers and synapses weren't afire already, we ran into an elevator full of full-on pregnant women coming back from a tour. My knees buckled. I didn't cry (then) and I can't explain the emotion. It wasn't sadness, it wasn't anger. It was more like, aversion? At any rate, the idea of spending any amount of time in a space of new moms....I'm just not there yet (ever, maybe).