by BabyCenter Guest Blogger posted in Mom Stories

By Dana Obleman
A package arrived at my door when I was 8 months pregnant with my first child. I tore it open excitedly and was shocked to find a huge tin of formula inside.
I was pissed.
Some random chemical company had somehow gotten wind that I was having a baby, and they had the nerve to suggest I wasn?t going to breastfeed" That I was going to give my baby some synthetic potion instead of breast milk" No sir, not this girl. My baby was going to have the best of everything.
The formula went straight into the trash.
Truth was, I was looking forward to breastfeeding. On the list of ten things that define motherhood, it?s, like, numbers one through seven. My baby and I were going to sit together in the early morning hours, draped in fluffy baby blankets in an old fashioned rocking chair, and I would sing softly to him while he drew the life-giving nourishment that my body produced for his growth and development.
Only, turns out, nope. It wasn?t like that. It was hard, it hurt like hell, it took forever, it was constant. He fussed, he squirmed, he cried?.
It. Was. Not. Working.
If it had been anything else, I wouldn?t have felt so cheated. I could have dealt with him rejecting cuddles, backing away from kisses, crying when I tickled him, but not wanting to nurse? that was rejecting me. And I didn?t like that feeling at all.
So, naturally, I did what any normal, well-adjusted mother would do, and I pushed that fee...