Between Feeds: One Mom's Path through Breastfeeding
- abby3377
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read
It Started with a Chair
by Alex Lekometros
When we bought our (exorbitantly priced) glider, I envisioned myself rocking, nursing my sweet, content baby.
Instead, I got a baby who screamed like we were cutting off a toe, and arched her back like my nipple was the most offensive thing in the world when offered the breast.
Instead, I had my baby’s mouth cut with a laser at four weeks old.
Instead, I got a month and a half of five-times-a-day “tongue stretches” where you essentially stretch aforementioned incision until your baby screams bloody murder.
Instead, I got four months of nursing with a nipple shield - a plastic sombrero for your nipple so that baby can attach properly.
Instead, I got so many lactation consultant visits, she offered me a free one - like when you get nine coffees so the tenth one is free.
And then, finally, I got a baby who cared to nurse. Whose eyes would roll back with relief when she latched. Who wiggles with anticipation when she sits on my lap. Who lights up like a Christmas tree at the word milk.
And now, it’s coming to a close. Because I want to eat a quesadilla. Because I want to go on a trip without a pump. Because I want to be able to work out in the morning without hosing the person in front of me down with milk.
Sometimes, I say to Nate, “Can you believe I make milk?” It’s such a brief moment of life, but it’s so all consuming while it’s happening. Raise a glass of milk to a mom today. However she fed her baby, it definitely wasn’t gently gliding in a chair with a smile.
Reflections in 2026
They say the rear view is 20/20 for a reason. I sit here, over four years later, rereading that poem and chuckling at myself. Because GOSH was every single word mind numbingly true.
Zoey and I made it to about fifteen months of breastfeeding, then I got nursing rage every time she latched, and we weaned pretty quickly. About three weeks after that we had an airplane ride like one from the movies: where the kid is screaming uncontrollably and the parents are sweating. In desperation, I whipped out my boob and it had ZERO impact.
This part of me, that her world revolved around just three weeks ago, now had absolutely no effect on her. That’s how fast our babies change.
Now, I’ve got another little milk monster. The biggest baby born (yet) at HOH, born instantly trying to nurse, and he hasn’t stopped nursing since.
Funny enough - we had the exact same challenges: tongue tie, triple feeding, dairy intolerance, as we did with Zoey, but this time it felt like rolling with the punches. Almost like sinking back into your own bed after a week away: I know how this feels. It’s all gonna be okay.
Second child vibes, I still don’t nurse much in that chair. Now it’s while reading a book about poop to my now four-and-a-half year old. Or on a smoothie shop toilet while Zoey swings at a playground. Or in the front seat of my car (mostly for the air conditioning!).
What I wish I could tell the self that wrote that poem: you’ll miss this, but you be so glad it’s over; you don’t realize how much you both need this, but you’re going to learn so many other great ways to be a mom; it’s a blip of your life, but when you look back it will feel like an eternity, in the very best way.
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