Seriously, why don’t my boobs make milk?

I knew how unequally created boobs were, when I saw my boobs compared to the boobs my friends had. I certainly drew the short end of the stick when boobs were handed out.

But, I thought when it came to feeding babies, all boobs were created equal.

They all made milk, right? That’s what they’re supposed to do.

I’ll never forget the disappointment I felt when I attached that damn breast pump to my boob and after 30 horrifying and excruciating minutes, only getting enough liquid to feed a baby bird. It filled one nipple. One teeny tiny bottle nipple. Not even the whole nipple, just the part that protruded out. 30 fucking minutes and this is all I get?

How was I already such a terrible mother? And it’s no wonder my kid was screaming. She was starving. My boobs wouldn’t even work.

Faulty boobs don’t equal a bad mom. But it did to me. And then on top of bad boobs I have to pay for overpriced formula. Jerks won’t even cut me some slack.

Then, with the formula came lots and lots of other questioning moments. She won’t be as smart as the other babies. She’ll get more gas than the other babies. We won’t bond like a mother and baby are supposed to bond. Other moms will think I’m a bad mom because I’m not breastfeeding.

But, with formula, I now have a second pair of hands to help feed baby. That was pretty awesome. I’m not the only one who has to get up at night. Because he CAN feed the baby too. And, he gets to bond too. Babies don’t care how they’re fed, as long as they’re fed.

And with that horrible formula, I can track exactly how much my baby is eating. I still have 6 months of chart showing how many ounces of formula a day, my first baby ate. Yep, 6 months.

Screw you who say breast milk is best milk. Fed milk is best milk. And, my formula baby is awesome. She’s eleven and smarter than me now.