I've never had such strong opinions about an election or a political topic before now. I just want to sit here and rage type about all the political things that are driving me crazy! Trump and the transgender bathroom issue has me totally fired up. Matt and I But this is not the appropriate venue, so instead of "rage against the machine" Jacqueline, you get nursing Jacqueline.
Nursing Jacqueline is doing really well. Theodore is significantly easier than Eleanor. I put together a little list to compare the two:
Theodore: one minor bought; Eleanor: three rounds of infection, one of which was bad enough to get me admitted to the hospital
Theodore: it happened a few times, but nursing in different positions cleared it up within one day; Eleanor: a daily occurrence for months on end and was very difficult to clear up
Theodore: wakes once or twice to nurse, then happily goes back to sleep in his bassinet/rock n sleeper; Eleanor: insisted on nursing constantly throughout the night and would not sleep unless in my bed and nursing
Frequency and duration
Theodore: eats quickly and efficiently, emptying both sides and only nursing a few times throughout the day; Eleanor: nursed for long stretches of time very often throughout the day, usually only nursed one side at a time
Theodore: does not like to nurse to sleep, has a hard time being rocked to sleep by me, much prefers Daddy to "walk him down." Only likes to sleep in his bassinet, car seat, or carrier. Hates sleeping in people's arms and will only do it when desperate; Eleanor: would always conk out while nursing and sleep anywhere. Loved sleeping in people's arms or in the carrier.
Theodore: doesn't really like nursing covers, gets distracted easily by his sisters; Eleanor: never minded covers and didn't care about the surrounding world when she was eating.
I feel like I have a different body! (Or, more accurately, different boobs. Sorry, Dad.) Nursing Theodore is easier in the sense that I don't get plugged ducts and mastitis nearly as much, and also because he nurses less throughout the night. But it's more difficult in that I can't just nurse him to quiet him when we're at church or something.
I have always wanted to be brave enough to nurse without a cover though, using the "under a t-shirt, over a tank top" method. I never was with Eleanor, but I have with Theodore! The first time I did it, I was tucked in a corner booth at a restaurant and no one knew what was going on. But the second time was at the Detroit Institute of Art. I figured if there was ever a place that the human form would be appreciated in all its glory, it would be an art museum. I found a room of religious art, you know, Mary snuggling with Jesus type stuff, and made myself comfortable on a bench. I was still under a shirt, so it was pretty conservative, but it was more obvious what I was doing. One employee did mention to me that they offered a nursing room on the main floor, but didn't seem rude or push it. Museum patrons either smile at me or politely avoided making eye contact. No one was rude!
Anyway, the natives are getting restless and the dryer is done, so I need to abandon this rather "mundane" breastfeeding post. Coming up next week: Eleanor's second birthday! Yay, Eleanor!