samanthakayne

confessional:

and i can tell you all this because you either don't know me, or already love me. i'd like to think you're a safe crowd.

i don't like breastfeeding.

on a good day, i don't happen to enjoy it. at 5am when she and i have both been up every hour and half nursing, i can't stand it. at best it's uncomfortable - at worst it's excruciating for the first minute or two. then either way it's just sort of cumbersome.

they say it's a great time to bond with your baby. i apparently don't get enough time to bond with her, what with the snuggling and the talking and the reading and the changing and the soothing and the playing. i apparently need her hard little gums wracking my tender parts to bond with her. how does that work?

and you know the real kicker of it all? i feel guilty about not enjoying it. i feel like that makes me a bad mom, because i don't glory in those "intimate times." sadly, it apparently doesn't make me quite as bad a mom, speaking politically correctly, as feeding formula would. i think it's a fine line, though.

to quote Trevor, though i'm fairly sure he wasn't talking about breastfeeding:
le sigh.

this is the part where you all tell me that i'm not a bad mom no matter what i do (or don't) with my boobs.

updated to add:
ironically, talking about my boobs seems to indicate some sort of return to journal normalcy...