the milk bar: a breastfeeding story

breastfeeding was not easy for me. either time. i still can't believe i stuck with it. i just knew it was something i wanted to do. it didn't feel right but it still felt right. so we nursed. it was a joint venture between almond eyes and me. i could not have done it without him. he would feed me while i fed her (one hand under her butt, one under my boob). he sometimes would even bring her to the milk bar when i was too tired to hold her there myself. he always thought i was crazy, i'm sure, for putting myself through such misery and pain, but he did not say so. she was the crazy one. she was demanding but she could not handle the rush of my milk. she would work herself up into a frenzy, then too crazy to nurse, i was too stressed to let down. there we were. mother and daughter. the fights started at day one. she is still as fierce. she is still as beautiful. she is still as strong. and not a day goes by that we do not share a special hug, a secret smile, recalling the days we frequented the milk bar together.
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