Who knew motherhood could be so messy. There has been some serious spraying going on in this house. Allow me to elaborate...
Getting Peed On:
I have been peed on.
My shirt, my pants, my cheek, my shoes, my socks.
My house has been peed on.
The floor, the counter, the sink, the wall, the carpet.
Did you know that an infant can pee remarkably far?
We know that almost every time his little member is drafted with cold air from a diaper change, he will pee. So we open, we fan, we wait. But sometimes, you wait and nothing happens - so you think, in the clear! And you proceed to remove the diaper, wipe, get the next diaper positioned...and then fire water canon, he pees! In the new diaper! And on himself! Remove diaper, wipe, repeat.
Getting pooped on:
(or rather - I should say, the dog)
Did you know that breastfed poo is remarkably runny?
And comes out in an explosion?
The counter has been pooped on.
The floor has been poosploshioned (yes, that is a technical term :)
The dog has been shot. A sad casualty of a mis-calculated poo.
Covered in breastmilk
Did you know that breastmilk sprays from your boobs?
I didn't.
If you haven't recently f ed or pumped and you decide to take a shower, beware - it is likely that when you turn that water off and go to towel off, you will spray milk all over - uh, everything. Have those magical breastpads ready to apply right away - lesson learned.
Did you know that when your infant starts sucking and then decides to un-latch, it is possible that your milk will keep spraying - all over you, your infant and everything else?
I didn't.
I don't know how we will ever be able to nurse covered, much less be able to go out in public and nurse discretely.
Here is what our feeding looks like (ok, no pictures, but with a good imagination, you can see)
1 to 2 minutes of attempted latching where Bear pushes against me, presumably because he thinks he is helping. He's not. But I appreciate his effort.
During said 1 to 2 minutes, ridiculous head bobbing and tongue waggling as Bear tries to latch (if I am lucky) or hysterical crying (if I am not)
Latch - success.
Unlatch - God only knows why
Milk spray - all over his face, all over me, all over my clothes.
Desperate attempt to stop the spray. We nurse with a towel. Or a burp cloth.
Infant to chest, re-collect ourselves.
Re-latch
Un-latch
Re-latch
Un-latch
Burp
Repeat.
Seriously - how are we ever going to nurse in public. But first, how will I ever cover him up? I already lack the third arm I need to make this happen.
In all seriousness - I am fully committed to breastfeeding. I just wish that it went more smoothly!