I crash the class late. Grant was hysterical from the car ride and I wanted to calm him before entering the room. I’m asked to introduce myself by the lactation consultant and to share one good thing that happened this week.
“I got to go to the mall and shop for clothes for my husband! My baby didn’t even cry the whole 2 hours there! I had so much fun.”
It’s received by some blank smiles.
Oh LORD…they proabaly said things like, “I set my alarm for 2:30 a.m. and pumped 8000 oz. of breast milk last night.” Or, “I finally let myself take the first shower in 2 months but it was only 2 minutes so that I didn’t take away from baby time, plus we are in a drought.”
Scanning the room, I see I’m not the only one whose kid scratched his own face to bleeding on the way here.
I’ve never seen so many different kinds of bras and “clothed” feeding techniques. One lady had a bra with the nipple area sort of cut out. It was like a eye looking for her son. Homemade? Maybe. Brilliant? Yes. Does it sound like I’m a starer? Yes and I proudly caught some stares in my direction too. One lady wanted to know where I bought my “super cute shirt perfect for breast feeding.” “Oh, this old thing? It’s from Marshalls’ juniors section from a million years ago (but it looks like Anthro).”
I was a “low producer” so hearing the “showoffs” with the huge breasts saying how there was so much milk that it’s falling out all over the place or choking their children to death is like hearing some kind of urban legend. I halfway don’t believe it and I sort of want to see it.
The baby to my left was surely wearing a black wig. The kind that sports fans wear at games. That super thick, you don’t have a prayer for seeing scalp type of look. The baby to my right had a puff of blonde hair that stood up like a hand at the back of his head, as if mocking Grant and I. I compulsively flail hair compliment grenades in every direction with encouraging responses that my kid’s will come.
I was relieved to see my baby wasn’t the only one who wasn’t speaking yet.
I dodged the ladies with “friendly friendship eyes” because I am moving very soon yet again and don’t want to set anyone up for a disappointment (specifically me). Of course I would never want to leave Santa Monica once I was friends with these awesome, cute, funny, fashionable, sweet moms.