Mama Bears

Whew. Last night was rough and I don't mind admitting it. Breastfeeding is so much harder than it sounds. Especially when the milk first comes in. The night mainly consisted of tears, leaks, clogs, cries, and pumping. 6 am the three of us magically agreed to a truce and we passed out in bed.


8:30: I groggily pulled myself out of bed, across the floor and into the warm shower. I sat there and let the water soothe my aching muscles. I breathed deeply, letting my lungs fill and slowly releasing. The pain in my chest began to subside somewhat.

Pain. I don't think I experienced this much pain when I was in labor. And I didn't get an epidural until I was almost 8 cm dilated. Pain can make you do funny things. It brings out the best or the worst in you. You either snap and bite off other people trying to help you {which I am ashamed to say I did yesterday to my family}. Or you channel it down a different path: take a deep breath and grit your teeth and fight back. That's what Mama Bears do in the wild. Have you seen them defending their young? They are fierce and don't stop for anything. They will fight and fight and fight.

As cheesy as it sounds that made me realize, that I'm a Mama Bear now and I need to stop all this feeling sorry for myself, buckle down and start to fight back. Noah needs to eat, and he needs me to feed him. So even if I'm raw, worn out, or WHATEVER else {!!!}, I will fight it for him.

I've had some pretty good role models. I come from a long line of stubborn German women. My Mom and Gram have been through many rough times for their families and their track record for coming out the other side on top of things is 100%. Who am I to let my heritage down?

So I got dressed. Made some coffee {most it for my family}. Started uploading pictures to print out, and wrote this bog post. And I hear Noah starting to stir. Excuse me while I go cuddle my Bear Cub, because at the end of the day {or the beginning...ha!} he is so very, very worth everything.


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