Member-only story
Infinite Feed
Breastfeeding is not for the faint of heart.
Read this story for free on Substack.
My little snapping turtle has discovered that chewing on the nipple is nearly as much fun as latching properly for a feed. His tiny jaw is shockingly strong and has to be massaged to open.
My supply is a fire hose when he first latches on. He pants to keep up, and you can hear him gulping from across the room.
I feel like the Very Hungry Caterpillar. I try to set up snacks by the recliner for the night feeds: I eat one banana, six Babybel cheeses, eleven raspberries, four bell peppers, seventeen Brazil nuts, eight dried apricots, and half a box of cheese straws. And I am still hungry.
On the one hand, he wants me! In particular! On the other, it has to be me. In particular. I’m sure we’ll figure out a pattern where he sometimes drinks pumped milk from a bottle, but right now we’re still letting the biology stabilize: my body produces milk in direct response to his demands. I don’t want to mess with supply by under- or over-producing.
But it’s untenable to keep this up. A baby needs to eat every three hours or so, around the clock, for 4–6 months. I’m still recovering; eventually, I’ll need a good night’s sleep.
