Good Baby Stuff

Breastfeeding: My Brest Friend nursing pillow


Mealtime used to happen on this pillow, every few hours!

Mealtime used to happen on this pillow, every few hours!

One of my most searched and most read posts is one I wrote about breastfeeding, mastitis and potato slices.  Man, I’ve been through everything when it comes to nursing. Crazy thing is, once upon a time, the whole idea made me quite uncomfortable. I knew I was going to try it, but generally speaking, I didn’t like looking at breastfeeding mothers and even the though of myself nursing was very abstract, and not something that exactly filled me with pleasure.

It was so hard to get nursing started (as it is for nearly everyone). The pain, the frustration. This My Brest Friend pillow was a great help, and I used it constantly for about 3 months, then only when I nursed when sitting on the sofa. The lactation consultants all seem to like it best, as it’s nice and flat. 

Breastfeeding is very technical at the beginning: sit your chair up nice and straight, deflate that little hemmoroid donut they give you (invariably way too inflated) so that there’s just a touch of air in there, put the pillow on nice and high under your breasts. Then there’s the baby. Undress him so he’s skin-to-skin with you. Make sure he’s on his side. Latch him on while holding your boob with your hand closest to it. Compress your breast to make it flatter and therefor easier to get more of it in his mouth. 

Sigh. I could go on and on. It’s tough going. Like learning to ride a bike with a newborn in a basket on top.

However, take heart. Here is my one piece of advice. Whatever breastfeeding problem you may have, it will probably go away. My friend Y told me “Eventually it will come as naturally as blowing your nose.” And true enough, it happened at around the five-month mark. No more problems. No more pain. Just easy, breezy nursing. Thank god. Cause I hate cleaning bottles and making formula, and I only did it a handful of times.


What Cillian is doing now: Sleeping. It’s 11am and he’s still going strong, SINCE LAST NIGHT. Yep. He fought me to stay up until 11, crying and writhing like crazy, finally fell asleep. Woke up briefly to nurse at 7:30, played on my bed a bit, fell back asleep. It’s like having a teenager in the house.


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