This is hard.
Thanks to a combination of pride, optimism, and naivete, I did not expect breastfeeding to be this tough. Yes, I'd heard it could be hard, but certainly that wouldn't be the case for me. In fact, it wasn't really an option for me, as I'd already determined that formula was not an option - so clearly I would find nursing a breeze. Ha.
For the sake of keeping things real on here: the baby is three and a half weeks old now and breastfeeding still sucks. I keep waiting for the oxytocin to kick in and the pain to leave and to discover I just love this... but it definitely hasn't happened. It seems like each time things start to get better, something happens to make them worse again (green poop! mastitis! no poop! oversupply!). I've had a lactation consultant come out twice to help. My poor husband wants to help but I still refuse to allow a bottle to pass the baby's lips, out of fear that then we'll really never get latching right.
I realized that part of the reason this is so distressing (besides the pain itself) is the thought that I'm not good at this. I really don't like being bad at things, and it usually doesn't happen too often. If I am bad at something, I generally realize it and vow to never do it again. (Very mature, I know.) The thing is, that won't work when it comes to feeding my child. I can't really swear that off. So I have to hang my pride on a shelf and persevere at something I feel like a failure at.
On a somewhat-related note... Sometimes I have a hard time understanding how people can make different choices than I do. You know the feeling? Like you've done so much research and spent so much time making a decision that you're shocked that anyone could choose to do something differently. However, I am starting to understand how women can very easily choose to do things differently. During labor, I could understand how women would jump at an epidural. When nursing makes me double over with legs thrashing, I can understand how women would give up on breastfeeding.
I'm trying to thank God for teaching me these lessons as I go. In all honesty, I remember to do so about 20% of the time. But it really is good for me to have my pride chucked out the window.
And after a year of praying for humility, it has finally arrived. In an irresistible package.
Post-script: I wrote this rather disjointed post yesterday between bouts of nursing and sobbing. What a difference a day makes! I feel so much better today, and have even been able to approach feeding with joy over 50% of the time! (Half the time it isn't too bad, as one breast has almost completely healed. The other one still hurts like the dickens when she first latches.) I toyed with the idea of deleting this post, but thought I might as well put it up if for no other reason than so I can eventually look back and realize that it will get better after all this. At least, I still have faith that it will!