Boob class

Trust me, the boobs in breastfeeding class are not like a nude beach and not even like porn. If they weren’t so science-experimentily intriguing they would be gross. I don’t have anything against boobs, I just never really thought anything of them before. Breastfeeding nipples are like tea-time saucers, complete with full tea-stains, the breasts like enormous water balloons, the skin like stretchy marbled paper. My size A-Bs have not prepared me for this. Apparently you have to hold and squeeze your breast a little, which makes for awkward naked positions (and does look like porn—aggressive boob-squeezing porn). It is fascinating and scary at the same time. I know that my own breasts have the capacity to become quite large, as was evidenced by the week following Wyatt’s birth, and I trust they will do the job when the time comes, but oh dear do I have to look like that? The videos were helpful, I suppose, and we learned a lot of interesting and intelligent ideas about breastfeeding, but I still wanted to laugh and point at a few things. (I know, I was getting all mature with the wills and estate-planning; so I’m backtracking, kill me). Overall, I am quite grateful for booby class though because what the heck do I know about feeding a baby with lumps on my chest? And Hubby can’t be that mad that he got to look at real and fake boobs for two hours, right? Bring it on, milk ducts!