Breastfeeding is amazing and no matter how many kids I have, I always marvel at how each new baby is able to exist (and thrive!) purely on what my body does and makes!
I see Elizabeth, our four month old little butterball and I feel a bizarre sense of pride because I created her and now I am sustaining her life. It’s silly, of course, because I didn’t actually do anything to create her (ok, technically I did one thing, lol) But God designed my body to do everything else on its own. I did nothing but eat, drink, and sleep while my body worked really hard and made a new person!
And then, without me telling it to, my body began making milk after she was born so she could live outside of me. How incredible! And so I have been feeding her for well over a hundred days now without all that much actual effort. Sure, I have to lift her, hold her, and care for her, but my body makes the perfect food for her simply by my letting her suckle several times a day. So, yeah, breastfeeding is pretty cool. But this post is actually about expressed breast milk.
Something is different about physically seeing the milk; it causes me to have a whole new appreciation for my body. I noticed it the other day when I warmed up a bottle for Maggie to give Elizabeth in the afternoon. She grabbed the bottle before Maggie could even get it to her mouth, and started vigorously sucking. She was drinking happily and it hit me – I made her AND her meal! Lol, I don’t know why it struck me as such a fascinating revelation, but it did. The female body is astounding!