Once again! I am so thrilled to welcome a guest writer - Leah Bhabha - to Your Mom. Leah and I actually went to high school together, and caught up recently about motherhood, New York, and it was so nice for me to find such common ground with someone I had lost touch with for so long. Leah’s now a writer, living in New York with her family, and her birth experience and breastfeeding experience really resonated with me - she’s able to put something into words I really struggled to communicate: the idea of what’s “natural” when it comes to birthing and feeding your child. You can find more of her writing here.
I always had nice breasts. Round and full, somewhere between a big C and a small D. “Porn star nipples,” I was once told, whatever that means. My breasts were one of the things about my body that I never thought much about, probably because I usually felt good about them. Around my period, the nipples might become sensitive, but it was a casual pain, forgotten until the next cycle. When acute twinges and a constant awareness of chafing appeared out of nowhere, I realized I might be pregnant. As the months passed, my breasts grew in size and tenderness but compared to the other bodily changes I was experiencing, their evolution occupied less of my mind. Until Matilda was born.
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