I’ve come a long way, baby. I entered a whole new world in my understanding of breasts.
As we arrive at the one month countdown till the Shrub (my nickname for our human, not plant, baby) arrives, Monday evening found us in a course offered at the hospital on breastfeeding.
First, some initial highlights of the course:
A pregnant woman and her husband had just entered the classroom before the course started when the instructor inquired, “Are you here for breastfeeding?”
The husband, without missing a beat, replied, “No, I ate before I came here.”
Truly not fair that some husbands get the perfect set-up to jokes, while others are left to quietly devise comical answers for a wide range of scenarios that go left unasked.
Also, thanks to the video in the course that had me biting the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing (not due to the prevalence of nipples and the stuffing of said nipples and hearty helpings of boob into the gaping maws of ravenous infants), but from the outrageous Australian accent narrating the video (reminded me of Murray, the manager, from Flight of the Conchords, and what receiving “braystfeeding” advice from him would be like). I still don’t know why we were watching an Australian video as opposed to an American one (particularly when it suggested seeking assistance from the Australian Board of Breastfeeding should we have difficulties), but I suppose that says something about the modesty, i.e. prudishness, of our country when it comes to breasts.
On the bright side…
I learned a great deal about breasts. First off, I had always assumed babies simply sucked on the end of the nipple to feed. Turns out they choke down a whole mouthful of boob to get the milk flowing.
Very impressive, babies. Very impressive. I applaud your tenacity and go-get-em spirit.
Some of you may be laughing or mocking my lack of knowledge on this front, but I blame Western civilization. If boobs were out all the time, all this knowledge would be readily apparent. So, thanks a lot, Western civilization. You made a boob out of me as far as boobs go.
The downside of this course…
I now am cursed with viewing breasts, pretty much the only evidence I’m willing to consider as proof that a God may exist and love us above all else, as not just beautiful, bouncy play things that bring joy and happiness to life, but as food sources. Truly fucks with the wiring of the male brain. So thanks. Way to turn me back to atheism, Boobs, by providing an essential life function (other than pure joy) to the most joyous things on earth.
On the other hand, it also makes boobs just that much more awesome.
They provide life.
They provide joy.
They simply make life joyous.
All hail the Almighty Breast!
