Boobs and Poop

If you're looking for a fetish site, you've come to the wrong place.

7 weeks and 2 days ago, I became a mother. My little girl has certainly rocked my world, and surely my life (and my husband's life) will never be the same. I expected to hear myself say stuff like that once she arrived. But I was not prepared for nursing and the toll it's taken on my body and psyche, nor was I prepared for so much poop!

BOOBS 

My life now somewhat revolves around my boobs. 

I knew I'd be breastfeeding if my body would allow it. But I couldn't even begin to understand what that really meant until I was in the hospital with a 1 day old baby, crying hysterically as 2 nurses worked together to shove my nipple into my daughter's mouth. That was the first glimpse into how challenging this whole breastfeeding thing actually is. 

Challenging and time consuming!

Since our breastfeeding journey began that fateful day in the hospital, my daughter has been on one boob or the other upward of 8 times a day. That's a minimum of 56 feedings in one week, and at least 392 feedings over the past 7 weeks. Feeding time varies but we average about 10-15 minutes on each boob each time she feeds. So over the past 7ish weeks, my daughter has suckled about 3,920 - 5,880 minutes on each boob! That's somewhere between 130 - 196 hours spent breastfeeding in her short life. Let's use the average and call it 163.5 hours in 7 weeks. There are 168 hours in a week, so we've spent approximately 1 full week of her short 7 on earth breastfeeding.

I've gone from maternity clothes to nursing clothes, and now have to think about boob accessibility throughout the day and night. I use an app to help me keep track of feedings. I haven't been away from my daughter longer than 5 hours, and I haven't slept more than 5 uninterrupted hours since she was born. I still don't really drink alcohol and am still taking prenatal vitamins... all because I'm breastfeeding.

I also try to pump milk once a day. The breast pump that I use (the Avent Comfort Double electric pump) is powerful and I feel like a dairy cow whenever I use it. I can see my nipples moving and the milk squirting out through the tubing... It's a strange, amazing and somewhat disturbing thing.

My boobs are bigger, which is something I'd always thought I wanted. Before pregnancy, I was an A-Cup, maybe a B-Cup if the bra brand was overly generous with labeling. I'm now a solid D-Cup. And alas, I miss my adorable, perky little boobs. 

And my daughter and I have only just begun. My goal is to breastfeed until she's about 5-6 months and I begin introducing solid foods. If we don't make it that long, I won't punish myself. Especially now that I'm working out the math, and thinking about the fact that she'll consume more as she gets bigger... Yikes!

POOP 

Her poop. My poop. Our poop. 

So all of this breastfeeding amounts to at least 8 massive dumps from baby girl each day. She's quite regular, and I'm quite proud of that. However, I think we've already sponsored a new landfill and environmental nightmare because we use disposable diapers. I'd love to be one of those eco-minded mommies with the patience for cloth diapers, but it's not happening anytime soon in this house.

Her poop is pretty easy and very manageable compared to my poop... Of course I've had concerns about the color and texture. I've taken pictures and sent them to my mom along with the "is this normal?" caption. I've referred to this amazing poop resource from BabyCenter on multiple occasions. But on the whole, it seems her poop is on par with the poop of other breastfed babies around her age. 

My poop on the other hand is quite interesting. The color and consistency seem different each time I go... in terms of fragrance, sometimes it smells like my little girl's poop. (Or maybe I always have a little bit of her poop somewhere on my body and so I'm confusing scents...)

And I'm not even talking about the first postpartum poop, which was a disaster and completely deserving of it's own post. (That post will be coming soon, but if you just can't wait to learn more about pooping in the first few days after delivery, check out this article from Scary Mommy). I'm talking about pooping on the reg and in my daily life.   

The process of pooping is so very different these days. When they tell you to say goodbye to privacy as a new mom, that is no joke! Since baby girl and I have been home alone together a lot over the past several weeks, I regularly poop with the bathroom door wide open so I can see and hear her. I've had to get up mid-poop to attend her needs on several occasions, and on more than one of those occasions I've not been able to return to the toilet to finish my business. This has lead to my stealing her baby wipes to clean up the mess. Based on the skid marks, you'd think World War 9 was started, fought and won in my underpants. My shower routine has been updated to include a thorough butt cleansing. And still, my butt never really feels clean anymore. 

BOOBS AND POOP 

On Monday of this week, my boobs and poop formed a perfect union. I was breastfeeding baby girl and suddenly needed to poop. It came on strong and so I couldn't wait. I tried using a trick to get her off of my boob so I could put her down and go to the bathroom (with the door open of course). 

But the ol' finger in the mouth trick didn't work. She just wouldn't let go of my nipple. So I stood up, doing my best not to disturb her meal, and walked to the bathroom with her on my boob. I sat down on the toilet and took care of business. She continued to feed and didn't seem to mind. I explained to her that this was the most intimate moment I've ever shared with another human being. I also thanked her for joining me on the toilet because for the first time since her birth, I pooped without reservation or hesitation. I pooped until I was finished pooping, wiped successfully and went about my day.

On Tuesday of this week, I decided to share this story with some of my momma friends. To my surprise, no one else was surprised. In fact, they all said something like, "oh yeah, I've done that." 

My hope is that we won't have to repeat this until it becomes ritual, but if we do I'll chalk it up to "one of those things" and part of the glory of motherhood.