Henry loves to eat.
He latched on great at the hospital and things have been fantastic ever since.
When Hallie was born, she latched on great at the hospital too. Or so we thought. It was only after my nipple almost came off (seriously) did we figure out that her latch was not right. She wasn't opening wide enough and it was killing me. I call it my Nipple Injury and it was no joke.
I remember crying when Dave would bring her to me to nurse. The most comfortable position to nurse her in was on my side, laying downdown, and even that was torture. I would pump and get bloody milk. Nasty, yes.
We stuck with it and by using lots of lansinol and feeding her on my side, we got through it.
Boy, was it rough.
With Henry, I knew what not to do. I went to the hospital armed with my lansinol. I made sure each latch was perfectly nice and wide. I demanded perfection for the sake of my breasts.
And it paid off.
We are a champion breast-feeding duo.
I nurse on demand, whenever that little crazy eater wants to, which is always.
I am at his mercy and I love it.
(these pictures have nothing to do with breastfeeding. I was going to post a picture of me breastfeeding Henry, but it was right after my milk came in and I resemble a porn star. And I don't think my Grandma Chronister would approve.)