National Breastfeeding Week

I just heard on the radio this morning that it’s “National Breast Feeding Week” and it made me think back upon my breastfeeding days.

All 6 of them.

Yep, 6 days. And I swear, if the Breast-Feeding-Nazi at the hospital would have succeeded in talking me into “just try it for one more week” – I’m pretty sure I would have gone crazy and killed my husband.

I was not one of those “lucky” women who gained satisfaction and intense joy via breastfeeding. I was a woman who gained…what?...hhmmph?...I guess I didn’t really gain anything. Maybe just some horrible memories and a touch of Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder. I spent most of the times in between feedings dreading the next one and hating my poor husband just because he wasn’t pressured into going through this excruciatingly painful, toe-curling torture like I was.

And somewhere inside my hormonal and sleep-deprived mind, that really pissed me off.

My kids have turned out pretty well considering they were fed formula through a bottle. They are healthy and functional kids…do well in school…have friends…love their parents...have all their fingers, toes, teeth, and internal organs.

So, thank God I didn’t breastfeed longer than those 6 miserable days… I’d really miss having my husband around.