If you would have asked me in high school . . . in college . . . even my first year of marriage . . . or my third year of marriage . . . if I would one day resemble a cow . . .
A lactating cow . . .
I would have mocked you.
I would have gotten squeamish on you. I quite possibly might have fainted on you.
The idea of a child nursing. Of a baby eating from a mom’s . . .
Due to my immaturity and (really) lack of understanding that “breast is best” (There. I said it. I said the “b” word.) I simply could not imagine enjoying this intense relationship that a baby has with his/her mommy.
Now, I can’t imagine any other way -- four babies later.
Nobody tells you that this nurturing relationship is difficult to learn, though. Perhaps there are some Eve’s out there who were able to nurse without help . . . without instruction . . . without reading oh maybe 4 books on the subject.
I was not an Eve. I say Eve because Eve was the first gal to feed her baby.
Asher was my hardest child to nurse. Little did I know that the poor guy needed to receive craniosacral therapy to release the tension in his jaw and to move down some plates in his head.
Oh, mom and baby were miserable. We have horrid pictures.
The Hottie might have been more miserable. He had to deal with two crying, sleep deprived individuals. It was rough.
Four mastitis infections, two rounds of thrush, and countless blebs later . . . we had a happy nursing relationship that lasted until he was 13 months old when I became pregnant with Ezra. (Asher actually knew I was pregnant before I did! He quit nursing!)
As much as I wanted to give up on this supposedly magical gift a mom bestows to her child, I whipped out the lactose machine though the pain. In order to get well, I had to keep nursing . . . in public and at home.
I hated the public part. And I still do.
But I do it.
Needless to say, I was pretty excited to try out the Reno Rose Pirose Nursing Cover. I figured it was the closest to nursing in public while looking like a full-figured nursing model.
You see, having a daughter has made me want to be slightly more fashionable. Though I have yet to even come close to achieving what is currently in fashion, I thought this Nursing Cover just might take me in the right direction.
And it could have . . . I just didn’t like the fabric pattern that I was sent (I know . . . ungrateful).
I . . .um . . . don’t do leaves well. I like funky patterns. Like this one (though she looks rather dramatic):
or this one:
As far as being a useful tool for a mother. Yes. It appears to do everything my slings can do, BUT hold a baby. Not to mention it looks fashionable. And pretty . . . not matronly.
It doesn’t scream, “I’m a lactating mom. Watch out. I might spray you.” (Sorry, just a little humor for those women who have, what shall I say, an overabundant milk supply. A forceful geyser-like milk supply.)
You can wear this accessory some 12 different ways!
If you don’t have a sling, then I would recommend the Pirose Nursing Cover ($35). Give it as a gift to the fasnionalbe pregnant lady in your life . . . who is squeamish about lactating. (I just love that word!)
By the way . . . please read how Pirose was birthed into production. It is a pretty neat story.