Courtesy Vlady Airlines.
For all of my adult life up until June, my breasts have had a single meaning and function and it wasn’t to suckle a baby. It’s taken some getting used to: having a vulnerable, hungry creature rely on them for sustenance. Eventually I’ve gotten comfortable with the suck-suck-suck-pause of baby’s rhythmic and eager eating.
Okay, now picture this: you’re lying on your side
Here’s the latest new thing: Theo has started cooing immediately after his bottle. He started this in the middle of the night last night and it carried through the day.
When Theo was born, my breasts would not be ready to feed him for another week or so. Because I had gestational diabetes, my labor was induced on my due date, and to make things worse I had to undergo a C-section. Whatever triggers milk let-down was not ready yet. There was a mere drop or two of colostrum on day three. So the nurses recommended that I “top off” the baby with formula.
I named this site The Pookster after one of baby Theo’s many, many nicknames. His father and I come up with new ones all the time (and some have even been retired by now.) Here’s a partial list:
- Zhook Zhook (zhook means bug in Russian, however it’s spelled)
- Little Man
- The Pookster
- Poi Poi