No seriously this happened to me.
My son was born ten weeks premature, a perfect 2 lbs. 13oz. He had to spend forty-seven days in the NICU, this meant a lot of things, but one of them was he couldn’t breast feed. Instead he had a feeding tube where they would feed him my breast milk. This also meant that I had to pump 10-12 times a day and I also had to do 12-16 hours of skin-to-skin with my son. That’s where he is only wearing a diaper and all his tubes and he is laid on my chest on my bare skin between my breasts to build a bond, keep him warm, get him used to my scent and to keep him healthy. It is truly remarkable what skin-to-skin does for the baby and the mama. Without it Henry’s chances of being healthy were far lower and my chances of having postpartum depression were much higher.
Well in all the rushing around and trying to be everywhere at once, one day I missed two sessions of pumping. By the time I got to the NICU to Henry’s room I was engorged and my breast felt like lava and hate. There was an enormous bulge in my breast where the plugged duct was. Henry couldn’t feed yet, and the pump wasn’t getting it out.
Needless to say I was a crying hot mess.
The nurse called the lactation consultant to come help me. It was the first time I set eyes on this woman. I was in pain, I felt feverish and I couldn’t stop crying. She told me what we had to do and I nodded like a deer in headlights.
She sat down next to me and that is when I let a complete stranger milk me and I didn’t care at all. I was so thankful for the help. I can’t even tell you! To me she looked like an angel. Between my two hands and hers we basically massaged and crushed my breast to the point I knew I was bruising and finally the plug let go and the milk ran free like white tears into a bottle.
Now this might sound horrifying to you, but in all the craziness of having a preemie I see it as a badge of honor to have a healthy little boy.