A Bleb in the Road

I am no stranger to breastfeeding adversity.

The uncertainty, doubt, and worry of undertaking a BFAR relationship is something I have talked about on a few occasions. Taking on a task that should come naturally when your anatomy has been augmented takes a lot of research, determination, and a lot of faith.

Even after leaking colostrum for the last weeks of my pregnancy, putting my child to breast and waiting for my milk to "come in" was still a bit of a hail marry attempt. An attempt that I had little real medical support in undertaking (that's another post altogether).

With the overwhelming success of my breastfeeding experience to date, I literally felt bullet proof, like there was nothing that could stop us now. Well, there isn't really anything that could stop us now... But there are apparently things that can give me a little more understanding for those who do give it up early.

I have a bleb. Otherwise known as a milk blister. I am not sure exactly how or when I got it, but the fact remains that nursing Oliver on my right side is becoming increasingly painful.

Thanks to twitter friends and awesome online resources like kellymom.com I know how to treat myself physically. I have started an Epsom salt and hot compress regiment, and am attempting a couple different nursing positions to alleviate the pressure a bit.

But I am unsure about how to come to terms with it emotionally.

Not the milk blister itself anyways. I mean, what is there to overcome emotionally about a milk blister? Aside from the really gross reality that I have a blister filled with breast milk bulging out of my nipple?

It's surely taken the wind out of my sales that's for sure. I find myself deterring and distracting Oliver when he wants to nurse (which I know is a big no no and can lead to other problems). Which makes me feel sad and guilty, not only am I refusing (well, delaying anyways) his comfort and nourishment, but I have never not wanted to nurse him before.

I love nursing; I would happily sit on my ass and breastfeed all day long if I could. For the closeness and bonding, it's relaxing and calming for both of us, and because it's a welcome break chasing him around the house now that he's mobile. I take pride in making milk for him. Every ounce he gains is triumphant and glorious.

But now that I am experiencing pain and discomfort I find myself not so willing to spend hours letting him come and go, playing and nursing as he pleases.

I know that the blep is temporary, but this dramatic shift it's caused in our daily routine is disconcerting. We are both put off by it, and well, it just really really sucks. For now I am trying to encourage comfort cuddling over comfort nursing, taking extra care to ensure a good latch at every feeding, and praying that this thing goes away very soon.

I wouldn't dream of weaning because of a tiny Bleb on the road, but boy is it tough to face each feeding with excitement and enthusiasm when there are problems.