Sore sboob

I didn't know what to blog about today, so I figured I'd pick a photo that I had on my PC and write about it. This is my baby John, when he was I'm not sure how old . . maybe a couple of weeks, maybe a few days. I can't tell, but I CAN tell you this. When this picture was taken, my boobs hurt. That I know for sure. This was taken during the early nursing days when every other day, I would think about giving up. See, I didn't nurse my first two kids; it never even crossed my mind. I never thought I'd enjoy the experience; I guess the whole idea of it just didn't appeal to me.
I had friends and a sister who'd nursed and told me how great it was, but they did tell me it took a lot of getting used to and that it would be troublesome at first.
How right they turned out to be. Not just a little troublesome either. It was something I struggled with every day, well, every hour actually. I usually felt like I was doing it wrong, that he wasn't getting enough to be satisfied, that my milk probably tasted like french fries or something that day-old babies shouldn't taste. Then, after about 2 weeks, I decided to give up. Not all together, but simply pump and bottle-feed. Well, after about a 1/2 a day of that, I had a revelation. I missed nursing! How could that be, when while I was doing it, all I wanted was to NOT be doing it?! But I missed the closeness, the special feeling it gave me that I had never felt before.
So I started up again, and sure enough, a couple weeks later, it was actually enjoyable MOST of the time. I actually kept it up for 7 months, but by then, I had been back at work for a while and my supply had gone way down and I had to quit. The having to stop depressed me. I knew it was something that I'd miss tremendously and something that I'd never have the chance to do again.
But John M. was ready to move on. He, by this time, preferred the bottle and was happy to exclusively be fed that way. That little booger wasn't mourning it like me. Now, 3 months later, he's happy to have actual french fries, and mac and cheese, and his favorite oatmeal cereal with fruit.
But pictures like this one will always take me back to a time, in the Fall of 2004, when I could snuggle up with my sweet John in bed for hours at a time and the world seemed to stand still.