Confessions of a Scary Mommy: An Honest and Irreverent Look at Motherhood: The Good, the Bad, and the Scary Read Online Free PDF

Plus, practically speaking, formula was expensive—why spend thirty bucks on a jar of something my body could make on its own? For me, it was a no-brainer. I knew nothing else, but I was definitely going to breast-feed. My distant cousin would be so pleased.
    Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. In retrospect, it did seem a little suspicious that I was able to wear the same exact bras allthrough my pregnancy. Every single part of me grew right down to my feet, but my boobs remained the same dismal cup size. This is bullshit, I remember thinking: the one part of pregnancy that was worth getting excited about, and I got completely gypped. At least when my milk came in, I’d have real cleavage for the first time in my life. I’d wear low-cut tops and get out of speeding tickets and trouble of all kinds. The prospect got me through the misery of pregnancy. It was also never gonna happen.
    Minutes after birth, Lily latched on like a champ—she was a natural; I was told by the experienced nurses that we’d have no feeding issues at all. But no matter how hard she sucked, she couldn’t seem to get satiated. They assured me that once we got the positioning down, feeding would be a breeze. So I cradled her in my arms and nursed her. I cross-cradled her. I nursed her sitting up and I nursed her lying down. I even nursed her like a football, despite never having actually held a football in my life. Nothing seemed to work and she became one pissed-off little girl.
    To test exactly how much milk I was producing, the home lactation consultant set me up with a double pump, Old Bessie style. I sat on my bed, bottle hooked up to each breast, and cried after an hour when I had less than a few drops in each bottle. Clearly, this wasn’t working and all the fenugreek in the world wasn’t going to make a difference. Feeling like a complete failure, I started her on formula, sobbing the whole time.
    It turned out (much to the dismay of my diehard breast-feeding friends) that formula wasn’t really evil. Actually, it proved rather miraculous. Once Lily was actually getting nourishment during feeding time, the hysterics (from both of us) subsided. With a full tummy, she became a much more pleasant baby. Shebegan gaining weight, rather than losing it, and the pediatrician gave her a big stamp of approval. It may not have been what I’d planned, but it definitely wasn’t the worst thing in the world. And, I tried to convince myself and the people gasping when I pulled out the Similac, it certainly didn’t make me a bad mother.
    Plus, bottle feeding wasn’t entirely awful. I did get to eat and drink whatever I wanted without worrying about the repercussions on my baby’s tummy. And it left Jeff or my mother or my best friend just as capable of feeding Lily as I was, a fact that made me sad as well as a little bit relieved. Best of all, now that I wasn’t feeding and pumping 24/7, I could get out of the house. And Mama really needed to get out.
    That first trip out of the house, I think I wore pajamas. Even if they weren’t actually pajamas, I’m certain I slept in them the night before (and, perhaps, the night before that as well). Motherhood gave me the excuse not to give a shit about how I looked, and I took full advantage of that fact. I assumed the public would forgive my confusion over how to use an ATM machine or properly park my car in between two white lines. I was a new mother; I had the best excuse out there.
    First-time mothers are the easiest people in the world to identify. I never noticed this fact before I was a mother, but after experiencing what they’re going through, I find that the breed is just impossible to ignore. And it seems like they’re everywhere. Try it: The next time you are at the grocery store or a coffee shop or the bank, take a good look around—I know you can spot her. The first-time mother will be in a complete daze, totally oblivious to the spit-up adorning her left shoulder and the stench of