lactating Archives - Toulouse and Tonic

Keep on Lactating and Save on Groceries For The Whole Family!

You know that moment when you need to cook something for dinner but you haven’t been to the grocery store for a week? So you go to your freezer and are finally motivated enough to bend all the way down and move aside the ice crystal-covered frozen peas and half-black bunches of bananas that’ve colonized the lower shelves since 2010 to see if you can find something?

That was me this weekend. I didn’t find any elusive ground beef but I did find something else nutritious.

One lonely, forlorn bag of freezer-burned breast milk had somehow escaped that final week of “I’m done breastfeeding so now let’s use up this frozen stuff and get our freezer space back.”

There it was, like a creamy contortionist, frozen into its last pose.

It was weird to see it there all these months later, having said goodbye to the milk cow phase of my life back in September. I had flashes of breast pumps , of feeding tubes, of frustration and fear. And then just as quickly, I felt relief that we’re past all that and my baby is healthy and happy and eats like a pig with his actual mouth now.

I picked up the bag and stared at it, puzzled. What should I do with it? It’s almost a year old…I don’t think I wanna give it to the baby. But we are out of coffee creamer….

So I put the bag of breast milk back in the freezer and did what any normal mom (who spends way too much time on the internet) would do. I googled it. And found out there are a lot more options than I ever would’ve imagined.

Now I just have to figure out which one of these things my liquid gold will be used for. It’s a tough decision. After all, there’s only one bag.

1. Shall I preserve it into a piece of jewelry I can nuzzle in my bosom until the day I can pass it along to Meyer as a special momento of his mother’s love? If I do this, will Asher feel slighted that I didn’t save any of his breast milk to make cufflinks that he can show off at high school graduation? I was concerned this wasn’t the right choice for me until I read that Mommy Milk Creations has a special, patented process that keeps my “milk-bead” from turning yellow – ever. Well that’s a relief. Yellow breast milk jewelry is so 2010.

2. Clearly, the most hygienic choice would be to have it made into breast milk soap. Tin Roof Soap Company is ready and willing to make me a “loaf” of soap using the very own milk of my mammaries. They’ll cut it, cure it and send it back to me…because who doesn’t love to take baths in their own secretions? I think I’ll save mine, though, to lovingly wash my sons’ mouths out with when they get to that sassy stage. One time ought to do it.

3. Did you know that people are eating their own placentas these days? In case yours is just sitting around in the refrigerator going bad, here are some recipes you can use for dinner tonight. I recommend the placenta lasagna, although the placenta spaghetti looks scrumptious too. Well, guess what? You can do the same with your breast milk. But why would you wanna do something simple and completely uncreative like, say, just drink it when you can get so much more upscale and adventurous? Inspired by the quickly-pulled-from-the-market, Baby Gaga breast milk ice cream, I’ve pulled our ice cream maker out and will be giving my husband and boys the creamiest, most immunity-boosting dessert of their lives after dinner tonight. I can’t wait to see their delighted faces when I tell them what they just ate! I’m not sure how far this one bag of breast milk will go but if I can pull it off, this lady has inspired me to whip up a wedge of Toulouse boob cheese as well. I’ll save that one for when the boss comes over for dinner.

4. Asher is a total lollipop addict. Suckers are his favorite candy in the world and judging by the look on Meyer’s face when Ash eats one, I’m pretty sure he’d like to get his hands on some of them too. How to make lollipops a bit more nutritious? Hmmmm. Of course! The real nature’s candy: nipple nectar lollipops. I could just buy some from these guys but I’m stunned and disappointed to find out that there’s no actual breast milk in them. They just taste like breast milk. Well, that might be good enough for my husband but certainly not for my kids. I insist that every single morsel that goes into their mouths pack the very biggest nutritional punch possible (no, I don’t) so I’ll make them myself. I prefer to make everything at home myself anyway (no, I don’t).

Now that I’ve looked at all the options, I kinda wish I was still producing milk. I had no idea I could’ve been feeding my whole family and not just the baby. If you’re looking into ways to save money on your grocery bills, forget couponing! Just keep lactating!

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Boob Men

My lactating boobs are out-of-control big. Actually, big is just not enough of a word for ‘em.

They were BIG when I was pregnant (see The Top Ten Sucky Things About Being Pregnant.) Actually, they were more HUGE than BIG.

But since I’ve started producing milk, these things have entered a whole new stratosphere.

Now they’re more in the range of gargantuan.

They need their own zip code.

My mammaries are now, without exception, too large to fit into any bra in existence.

Trust me. I have scoured the internet.

No. Bra. In. Existence.

I’ve ordered and tried on every single one I thought might come close to containing these whoppers. Nary a one actually fit properly.

But a couple of them were an inch or so too big in the band and slightly too small in the cup, so I’m using those out of desperation. Short of trying to make my own undergarment out of a couple of big-girl girdles and some industrial strength, space-age elastic, they’re all I’ve got.

If you’re rolling your eyes right now and saying to yourself, “Stop bragging, Beeyotch,” let me assure you — I am not boasting about these things.

Smiling in his sleep, dreaming of coming home.

These things are way too big to be considered sexy or attractive.

Or even containable.

They’re just plain too much.

Even my husband — a self-professed boob man who heretofore thought there was no such thing as too-big boobs — even he says they’re too much.

Without fail, if he walks into a room while I’m changing clothes and gets a gander at them, he says “GOOD LORD!”

Every single time.

Even my 4-year-old is impressed by them.

Seemingly getting in early practice for his future Mardi Gras escapades, he says, “Let me see your boobies” almost every day.

And I can’t help but allow him to see them. Because they’re out constantly while I pump.

He looks at one boob and says, “WOW! Your boobie’s really big. Let me see the other boobie.”

Whereupon he just shifts his gaze to the other one. “WOW! Your other boobie’s really big too.”

This past Sunday, it was my NICU baby’s turn to get a load of them for the first time.

Whatever doc was on staff that day decided we should try to breast feed.

Keep in mind that Meyer is only 5 lbs, which is about what I’m guessing each one of my boobs weighs right now.

I shoved the nipple in his mouth and he opened his precious little eyes to behold a mountain of a breast that was at least twice the size of his own little head.

He looked bewildered and confused.

And kinda scared.

He knit his eyebrows together and laid there in my arms darting his eyes all over the place like, “What the hell? Is this thing going to eat me?”

I spent the entire 20 minutes we were trying to nurse absolutely belly laughing at the expression on his darling little confused face.

Meyer’s almost 37 weeks gestation now. If things had gone perfectly, he’d still be in my belly.

Instead, he’s already been traumatized by my boobies.

I feel pretty certain that, given what they’ve had to deal with as infants, my boys will have extreme views on racks. They’ll either love ‘em real, real big. Or they’ll prefer them as flat as they come.

Or maybe not.

Maybe they’ll go for something in between.

I know I would.