My boobs are no longer my own

Greg and I had our first "baby class" last night. Breastfeeding 101. I didn't giggle as much as I thought I would, especially given the fact that she had to say "breast" and "nipple" 500 times. However, despite my ability to keep it together when she said "breast", I was a wee-bit grossed out when they showed the video of the baby "latching on."

I dont' know what it was ... maybe it was the milk that came out of the corner of the baby's mouth, maybe it was watching this baby open it's mouth as wide as he could to get a good mouthful of boob ... I don't know!

When Lucas and I were kids we would go up to Lake Arrowhead to stay with our grandparents, and they used to serve us powdered milk. It was disgusting! I remember complaining about it to my mom, so the next time we went to visit them she packed some regular milk for us in our suitcases. I've never really been a "milk" person. I never just poured myself a nice tall glass of milk, frankly just picturing that makes me ill. Maybe that has something to do with it right?

What I do know is that I am not nearly mature enough to be doing this! Greg seemed to be keeping it together better than I was. He only slipped up once and that was when the teacher was talking about how many poopy diapers the baby should have and she used the word "stool" so Greg drew one on our handout (literally, he drew a picture of a stool) otherwise, he asked inciteful questions and took lots of notes.

Me ... well, I was traumatized by the fact that my baby is going to be using my boob for his food, for his sustenance. Maybe it's because I don't like milk? Maybe it's because I don't find breasts particularly attractive and that's why I had an aversion ...

Boobs have generally been an annoyance to me, ever since they appeared in Junior High. It felt like they appeared over night! I had a friend in junior high who said to me "Julia, all of these guys ... they didn't like you until you got boobs, but me, well, I liked you before you got those." And that was it ... I think that was where my hatred of the giant boob came from.

You know in movies where the young girl is wishing she would grow some boobs? I don't remember that feeling, that feeling of waiting for the "ladies" to appear. I remember strapping them down so that I wouldn't get knocked in the face while I played soccer though.

It's taken me a while, but me and the "girls" had created an understanding. I wouldn't bother them and they weren't supposed to bother me. Now however, they have gone back on their word. They have taken on a life of their own...they catch food, they bump into things and frankly they are just unpleasant to the eye.

The "ladies" and I have to come to a new understanding, a new agreement if you will...I know that I want to breastfeed BHR, so I'm going to have to create a new relationship with my boobs. So, once BHR arrives he gets full access, because his health his more important. Just as the rest of my body is no longer my own, neither are my boobs. That will be my new mantra...