Breastfeeding: WTF?

Yes, I have touched briefly on the trials and tribulations associated with breastfeeding your first child. Boys, you should read on for the sake of your relationship when your spouse decides to torture herself with attempting to breastfeed your children, I'll keep the specifics to a minimum.

Let it be said, that one would think after centuries of evolution babies would enter the world with at least some clue on how to secure a food supply in order to survive. Now this is not asking much, I believe, because we're not asking them to be potty trained, or be able to clothe themselves, or even to avoid dangerous predators. Just f*$%ing eat when we give you food! Whoops, earmuffs.

Now, not all the fault lies with the baby here. Mother Nature, the spiteful bitch that she is, throws several more curve balls at First-time Mommy. Not only does your little one have no idea what to do with a nipple, oh no, as an added bonus you don't have any milk in your nipples for at least 2-5 days. So basically you're saying, "Here Baby, here's your method of obtaining food. Only hang out for a few days, because they're empty". If I went to a restaurant, and I'm not an obnoxious consumer, and after ordering my food the waiter hands me an empty plate and says the food will arrive in 2-5 days? Me? Not so happy. I'd have the BBB on that restaurant's ass faster than you can say Health Violation.

Let's refresh: A. Baby has no idea what nip is for. B. Nip is empty. And C. when nip begins to fill, it fills so fast and so much that Baby can no longer latch onto it and therefore starves and everyone dies a bloody death.

[Sidebar: I'm pretty sure they left that chapter out of La Leche League's "Art of Breastfeeding" book. But I'm sure as hell not done talking about it.]

After several days of hell on Earth, you go visit your pediatrician who delightfully tells you your baby is starving to death and why aren't you feeding it you bad, bad, BAD LADY/MOTHER. Oh right! I'm supposed to feed it? Like I haven't spent every minute of every day since it popped out of my uterus trying to suffocate it with my gargantuan breasts in every attempt to feed it? Oh, silly me. I totally want my money back from Childbirth Class.

So in the end, you wind up feeding your baby formula from a bottle, EVIL OF ALL EVILS. And then you stupidly wait a week before contacting the proper authorities* to get you on the path to breastfeeding success. Because ultimately, you are as dumb as a prehistoric cave mom. Congratulations!

(I'm thinking of saving that last paragraph for a pitch to Hallmark.)