Breastfeeding Quotes

I've been melted into somethingtoo easy to spill. I make moreand more of myself in orderto make more and more of the baby. He takes it, this making. And somehowhe's made more of me, too.

Brenda Shaughnessy

Breastfeeding is a beautiful thing, one of the most beautiful things that exist in nature. Think about how a woman can literally feed her baby with her body! In my eyes, this is a certain form of beauty, of divinity! To know that my body can not only form and bring another human being into the world, but that I can actually feed babies with my own milk from my own breasts— that puts me in a state of awe each time I think about it. It is an honour to be a woman.

If we wear our nursing covers backwards like capes, then everyone can see we're breastfeeding superheroes.

I think I would scream too if someone violently jammed a big ass breast in my mouth.

The physical relief of having fully drained boobs cannot be overstated.

Heaven is the feeling of hand warmers on sore nipples.

Go hug a nursing mom -- but not too hard. Her boobs may hurt.

I can absolutely assure you that birth is nothing like holding an ice cube in your hand for a minute and breathing through the "pain.

In case you haven't heard, let me tell you now, babies do not come out knowing how to breastfeed.

If nursing were easy, there wouldn't be so many helpful products.

Though breastfeeding is supposed to the most natural thing ever, it seems like a rich-people sport for all the stuff we buy to help.

Successful breastfeeding take courage, resilience, patience, and support and it always has. If your partner or support group hasn't piled on the accolades for your heroism, then let them know you will expect oohs and has when you make it through the first two to three months (no matter how you got there) and your baby is happy and healthy -- because you are awesome!

The silence stretched out between us as I stared at him, the tears blurring my vision as I waited for him to save me from this torment. Surely he could find a way.

Kathryn Michaels

In my experience nursing is waiting. The mother becomes the background against which the baby lives, becomes time. I used to exist against the continuity of time. Then I became the baby's continuity, a background of ongoing time for him to live against. I was the warmth and milk that was always there for him, the agent of comfort that was always there for him. My body, my life, became the landscape of my son's life. I am no longer merely a thing living in the world; I am a world.