I spent the day yesterday with a brand-new mom--my dear friend Kristi, with whom I go back some eight years--and her newborn (sweet! gorgeous! adorable! longest lashes known to babies!). (And, by the way, Kristi swore I could both blog this anecdote and use her real name.) Kristi's got major milk over-production going on: the leaking, the spraying, the baby choking as if trying to take a sip from a gushing garden hose. When Genevieve was a newborn, I made way too much milk too, though I never had much trouble with milk leaking at inconvenient moments. I had tons of breast milk; it just tended to stay where it belonged until Genevieve latched on, at which point it poured all over the place and overwhelmed her tiny baby mouth for three months until my milk supply settled down.
Yesterday as the babies napped, we sat on the couch eating brownies and talking about new mamahood and how to survive the initial (and ongoing, many times) social isolation that comes along with it. I was fervently preaching the power of the new motherhood-oriented online social media when Kristi grabbed her chest, groaned, and said, "My milk's leaking!" We tried to figure it out: the baby wasn't crying, we weren't looking at baby photos--none of the usual triggers. Brownies? Didn't seem likely. (Thank God! Can you imagine if chocolate was a reliable milk-letdown trigger? Think how many times per day you'd have to change your shirt!)
Eventually Kristi figured it out. "Ohhh! I know--You were telling me about mommy-blogs."
People, THOSE are hard-working breasts.