Yesterday, we went to go visit some good friends of ours who have an adorable little girl about six weeks older than Jude, Avery. Avery's mom and I grew up together (more to come on that in a later blog) and it's been fun getting the kids together. Anyways, she and I both have plans to breastfeed for a year and were laughing last night at the many mishaps that accompany nursing a baby through their many stages. I thought it would be fun to blog about one incident in particular where, really, what can you do but laugh? Warning: if you aren't prone to a little TMI (too much information), you may want to skip this post and scroll down to older posts or wait for a new entry in a day or so.
Jude was about two months old. I was still on maternity leave and actually enjoyed leaving the house for jaunts during the day- it made me feel human to go out amongst the living and actually shower and put on clothes that didn't consist of unsexy pajama pants and an oversized spit-up stained T-shirt. At 2 months old, Jude and I had pretty much overcome our latch issues and I was somewhat proficient at getting him latched the first try. As long as I had my nursing cover, I was totally okay with nursing in public. I decided to go to Borders. Jude rarely cried and if he started to get fussy, I figured I would just curl up on a loveseat with a book and nurse him. Lo and behold, he started showing signs of hunger so I grabbed a book on cupcake recipes (so I could drool over the photos as sleep deprivation made it difficult to comprehend any reading material any more complicated than ones laden with pictures) and sat on a couch away from everyone. Well, as luck would have it, a lady came and sat right across from me and a few minutes later another man sat cati-corner from me. Jude was so tiny that they didn't even see any sign of a baby underneath my cover. What I neglected to consider was that Jude loved to take a nice, loud poo immediately after or during nursing in the beginning days. Now, if you've ever seen breast-fed baby poop, it really does challenge the laws of physics. And I'm not talking just a quiet poop, but a wall-shaking, earth-shattering, incredibly wet sounding poo. Not only did he let out one explosion, but three. In a row. I really wish I were kidding when I tell you that the sound reverberated all around the 2nd floor of Borders. I'm not sure what was worse, the sound of the 'poopsplosion' (as we lovingly call Jude's early poos) or the even more deafening silence that followed. I could tell that the two people were trying to pretend like they didn't hear it. Then all of a sudden, I had a realization: they didn't know I had a baby under my nursing cover.....and they probably thought it was ME! I was horrified. Then all of a sudden, the man couldn't hold it in and started turning red trying not to laugh. That was it. Jude was still happily slurping away underneath the cover, but I moved part of the cover to reveal his little feet and stated, "That was my baby, it wasn't me. Just in case you thought it was." The two 'spectators' started dying laughing and informed me that yes, they had assumed I was nursing.
It was somewhat of a relief to know that they didn't think I was sharting myself while reading a book on cupcakes.
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