Breast Feeding (unleashing your baby’s inner piranha)

Last night my beautiful wife, who is with child, and I attended a four hour breast feeding instructional at our local hospital. I found the class to be very informative and incredibly horrifying in such a way that I cannot understand how my poor wife was able to sleep last night. I am quite sure, judging by the women clutching their breast while staring wide eyed and the men sitting next to them with puzzled looks on their faces, that everyone in the auditorium felt the same way. The lactation consultant, who was given the task of passing down the "art" of feeding a baby from breast, had the personality of Colonel Robert Shaw as he led the 54^th Massachusetts to the Battery Wagen on Morris Island knowing there was a slim chance any of them would survive. With her regiment armed with bed pillows and a diverse collection of baby dolls she spoke of the benefits that they would receive for the pain and agony that they would most likely endure. She might as well have replaced the word mother with martyr. Through her speech many things managed to fasten themselves to my mind, but none more than the temperament of a baby at breast.

When a baby is born we see a helpless creature that was violently removed from its environment and thrust into a cold, chaotic, and strange world. They are unable to communicate, uncoordinated, not very mobile, and are left only with their instincts and a long list of archetypes to be given association. That is until their lips are tickled and they find themselves face to face with a warm breast. It is at this point they cease being confused and are transformed into carnivorous little imps with unquenchable appetites. As soon as the nipple reaches their palette and they have their first taste of the sweet colostrum they unleash a vacuum that is capable of leaving contusions. For the first couple of weeks a woman's breast will become engorged with milk in effort to compete with their baby's thirst. They will feed very frequently and at will during this time. This equals out to be about a half hour at least every three or four hours. Every last bit of energy will be sucked from the mother during this time leaving her unable to keep her eyes open and reducing her to an almost coma like state. The baby will go as far as milking the breast with its hand in effort to get every last drop of milk and stimulate a further release of hormones to increase production. If the baby isn't "latched on" correctly, and is not getting the desired quantity of milk, its relentless thirst will not allow it to reposition its oral grip on the breast allowing for a more unrestricted flow. It will continue to feed relentlessly until the mother's nipple is so sore she becomes unable to continue feeding it. Today we have an apparatus called a bottle for when this happens. Though it will grow the baby and keep it alive, it is not nearly as beneficial for it to be fed in this manner. When we didn't have such modern technology the mother would have to pass the child off to a wet nurse who would then feed the child and give up more of her own life force in place the mother's. This is still practiced in many third world countries. After awhile the baby will start to salivate excessively. This is a sign that the baby will soon acquire its first teeth which are capable of tearing flesh. To sooth the irritation of these teeth cutting through their own gums, as well as its undying hunger, it will start to gnaw at the nipple causing excruciating pain for the mother. This pain is so intense that the mother will scream in agony and pry the baby from the breast. At this point the baby will look at its mother and either laugh or develop a masochistic grin. The lactation consultant was quick to excuse this behavior as a natural response to inciting a reaction, but I am not quite sure that this is the case given the past history of the baby's feeding habits. Most women will have exorcized the baby from her breasts by this time and most of those who haven't will do it as soon as this happens. From that day on the baby will devour can upon can of formula along with the wages its parents have worked so hard for. After each feeding the baby will hold a smile of contentment as its face turns a glowing red while producing yet another horror of parenthood, the dirty diaper.

I have always been a firm proponent of breast feeding when a woman is able. I believe it is, and always will be, the best form of feeding a baby. I am in no way suggesting that any woman should not do it if able, or not attend a class to teach you how to properly do it. However, I am suggesting that if you should ever teach a class on breast feeding that you spend only fifteen minutes of the four hour period talking about the horrors that could possibly be associated with it. The rest of the time should be spent discussing technique and the wonderful benefits and bonds that are developed through it. The class should be about breast feeding and not about releasing your baby's inner piranha.