It was the breast of times, it was the worst of times...

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST TALKS ABOUT BREASTS, PARTICULARLY MY BREASTS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PROCEED TO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

So breast feeding sucks (no pun intended, how ever weak it is). I was not prepared for the suckyness of it. It seems my little boy is completely repulsed by my boobs and their contents and my boobs are equally repulsed by him. This might be a letter my boobs would write to the baby if they could write, and think:

Dear Baby,

You obviously have no idea what you are doing. We thought you were pre-programmed to do this, but apparently that is a huge fat lie. You are making our existence miserable. We am cracked, sore, bleeding and fully underutilized. Therefore, We are revoking your privileges. You are now banished to the bottle and the world of ear infections, colds and less effective immune systems. Don't fret, at least you won't be starving and you'll sleep better at night. We on the other hand will hang a little lower, knowing that we could not be used the way God intended -- as milk machines.

Sincerely,

Momma's Breasts


Now I know what you are all thinking, why didn't I just hang in there a little longer? Here's my train of thought in a nutshell. Breastfeeding is hard, it's really hard. No, it's REALLY REALLY hard. And when your baby can't get a hang of latching on, it's nearly impossible. I went to the lactation consultant, the woman revered as a goddess, but still could not get it. I tried pumping, but that was equally disastrous. We even rented one of those industrial pumps meant for cows and sheep that turn your nipples into little purple torpedoes it sucks so hard. And yes, I had plenty of milk. It's just that my baby hated it. He hated every drop of it.

Now formula, that was a different story. He loves it like a fat kid loves cake. Formula is his best friend.
No more spitting up, no more screaming at feedings, no more me crying that I can't feed my baby.

Deciding to formula feed was the hardest decision ever. And they say the biggest help to success with breastfeeding is a supportive partner -- Tyler was that and much much more. It just wasn't for us -- me and Max. He wanted no part of that breast feeding nonsense. So no, I won't feel guilty. I will relish in the formula induced coma that comes with each feeding so I can put on a little make-up or take a shower. I will embrace the times when daddy gets up to feed him because I don't have to. I will tuck those boobies back in a real bra and feed my baby with a bottle because heck, we say no to breast milk!

Okay, so I feel a little guilty. But hey, he's eating, he's thriving, what more can I do but love him? All I can say is that the Seibert household is much much happier with a well fed baby and if that means formula, so be it.