Monday, May 14, 2007
Lift and Separate
I broke down today and bought two new nursing bras. I feel like a new woman.
I've been limping along with a collection of saggy, baggy nursing bras for months. My old bras are from the "Iron Maiden" line of nursing bras. Whenever I'd spot myself in one of these quasi-burp clothes in a mirror, I'd think to myself, "It's official. I've become my grandmother."
And the pity of it is, I spent a fortune on what could be taken for fishing drag nets. I went to a specialty shop to be sized by a supposed expert. Even though the bras looked like they were woven from stainless steal, my chest drooped lower and lower as the year went on. Recently, my nipples began dragging below my belly button. I'm too young to begin singing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" every time I get dressed in the morning.
Well something had to give. I put off this purchase for way too long. Why? Because how much longer am I going to be nursing anyway?
Ah, I used to love nursing. Until just a couple of months ago, nursing was the highlight of my day. Nowadays, we can still have our sweet nursing moments. Like when Katie is drifting off to sleep at night, and her little hand pats my breast to say "nighty-night." Otherwise, nursing a 13 month year old must be like nursing a monkey.
In fact, this weekend while we were at the zoo, I spotted a nursing monkey. The mama monkey could travel hand over hand the length of the enclosure with her fuzzy little baby latched on through the entire journey. I felt a twinge of sympathetic nipple pain at the sight of it.
As far as nursing goes, Katie has been a really healthy baby, and nursing must have something to do with it. She's had one bad throw-up illness, and a series of snotty noses. Knock on wood, we made it through the worst of the cold season this year. For a healthy baby, I'll put up with some nursing gymnastics. Especially now that it won't look like I'm wearing a life-vest under my summer t-shirts.