Alexander nurses for 2 hours every time he nurses. My nipples feel like they're being hammered through with red hot nails every time he nurses. And when he nurses shorter, I'm in a horrible, stressful dilemma of whether to pump, or see if he needs more milk right now. My emotions are all messed up and I miss my husband when he's at work almost to the point where I can't function.
I was just texting with one of my sisters who's reading a diary of someone who was on the Oregon trail. She had her first baby in a covered wagon at the age of 16. Like many other women, she probably got pregnant again right away and was that way all during the many months hard journey. And then, when the journey ended, life was probably still pretty much just as hard. Those women didn't have hot baths, or perfume bottles surrounding them to make them happy, and all they had to put on their excruciatingly sore nipples was a probably literally starving baby. No tea, no hot chocolate, no bottle for their husband to feed to their baby when they were too tired.
My life is really easy and when I think about these women, I think I can handle this.
