Why I Support Breastfeeding

[edited to add sappy photo & note.]

- CLEAVAGE!

- Shirts for me like "Nip/Suck" and "I make breastmilk. What's your Superpower?"

- Knowing that if someone yelled out "NICE RACK" they, for once, meant it.

- Shirts for Gretel like "I'm No Weaner" and "Mother Sucker."

- And if someone did yell out "NICE RACK" finally being able to respond with "Thank you, I grew them myself!"

- While I can no longer fill my nursing bras (yes it is mostly about the boobs for me wannamakesumthinofit?) I can STILL spill out of a padded push-up stuffed-with-tube-socks training regular bra.

(But this is only at night now and only if I have not nursed Her throughout the day and stored up enough of my stuff so I can resemble something like looks almost like a girl and less like a pre-pubescent boy with freakishly large nipples.)

But perhaps the number one reason is sharing the one thing that only She and I have shared from the start. Sitting in her room, skin-to-skin, her hands gently petting the skin of my stomach. Skin once stretched to its limit that is now so soft and pillowy that she takes every opportunity to lift my shirt just enough so she can steal a snuggle. For those few moments, we are both brought back to Day One. The day I became Her Mother. And the day she became My Daughter.

(*Since this post, Gretel is now weaned. It's a bittersweet milestone but one that we were both ready to happen. The tummy snuggles continue and I'm happy to oblige for I get as much of the comforting benefits from the skin-to-skin contact as she does.)