The Beginning

This is the beginning of a new journey, the step to do something better for not only myself but for someone else. It started two years ago, actually when I had my daughter. I was determined to breastfeed, and failed in my eyes. After six months of supplementing with formula due to bad advice, my milk supply basically dried up. I researched and read and learned and educated myself to that when I had my next child, I would be able to breastfeed him/her without a drop of formula passing that babe's lips. 19 months after I had my daughter, I gave birth to my son. I was determined to breastfeed him. Exclusively. I won. So far, I have exclusively breastfed (from here on out known as EBF) him since day one and it has been six months, going on seven. No formula no nothing. It was not here to tempt me and I did not speak to anyone in the medical field who could possibly have no clue about nursing issues.

Since then, I had rented a pump to help boost my supply so that I could store milk and leave my son and daughter with a sitter for a few hours once in a while and not worry if my son would starve. I recently found out my son would not take a bottle, as I had waited too long to introduce one. I was upset and discourage that I would have to pour my precious milk down the sink, a waste of time, effort, and money. Then someone introduced me to Eats on Feets and I joined the Northwest Indiana chapter. I posted that I had twenty precious ounces to give to a lucky mama who could use it. After a count, I only had thirteen ounces, but enough for one or two gleaming bottles of mama milk. I received a message via Facebook that a local mom in the next town over was in need of my milk. It took a day or so and we planned to meet. The night before, I asked her a question that had budded in my head. Could I be her single source of milk for her little son? I wanted to know after I read her blog stating she had issues producing enough milk to support her little one. For some unknown reason, she simply couldn't produce more than a few ounces at all. I felt for her, and knew I could help. So I asked if I could be her wetnurse. She accepted. We met and I watched as she fed her adorable child the milk I had labored to pump. He sucked down every last drop, passing slowly into a milk coma with every swallow. I wanted to cry. This woman had actually written a blog post about me, and my heart soared with joy that I could do something besides sit at home.

So, here I am, chronicling my days of becoming a modern day wetnurse. I will be pumping, nursing, herbalizing, drinking (nasty) tea, and everything I can think of to over supply and produce enough milk for two babies. I want it so that little boy never has to drink another drop of formula again. He doesn't need it if I can supply real, genuine mama milk for him.