Breasts, Breasts, Everywhere and Not a Drop to Drink:

Posted: August 26, 2012 in Pregnant Wife Stories
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When my wife asked, I jumped at the opportunity to attend breastfeeding class—this is what husbands do.  We sacrifice for our spouses. I knew that I would be an exceptional student and felt like the class would have been minus a great “boob” perspective should I have declined the invitation.  Breastfeeding is intimidating.  I wanted to set a tone that conveyed to Whitney that I was serious and committed to breastfeeding.  She needed to know that sitting next to her “partnering with her” was a supportive husband who would stand on a staunch platform that come hell or high water, we were going to give breastfeeding this baby everything we had.  In a carefully planned opening comment to Whitney, I think I got this point across.  As the movie started, I said, “Dude, I am going to see a lot of boobs today….”

I wasn’t the only husband there, and I think the wives liked having their baby daddy with them, but what I found was that breastfeeding is pretty much not going to be something I get to be a tremendous help with.  I have spent many hours trying to convince Whitney that her breast milk could be a way we save on protein supplements for the Phillips Household, but I am not sure she has committed.  Although, I learned how to “latch” yesterday and I believe I would be a great candidate for a woman to feed, but that is probably the subject of a much different blog.  But, it reminds me of a time when Whitney was thinking, “hell, I am breastfeeding my own child, maybe, I could make a few c notes as a wet nurse.”  She began looking for some information on the internet and was excited to see that it was more common than she initially thought.  She came to a link that looked like a solid prospect.  Once opened, Whitney was greeted with a link for a 40 plus year old man seeking a woman who would treat him like a baby and breastfeed him.  She was pretty much against the idea from the get go.  I was on the fence; this could be a lucrative deal for Whit, and I knew she gets a lot of her identity from her work, and this could be a solid career move.  ***Will keep you posted should she commit to this new career!!!!**

There was also a second at the beginning of the class where I am certain the teacher wished Whitney and I had chosen something else to do with our Saturday morning.  The conversation betwixt Whit and the instructor went like this:

Instructor:  This is a great course that helps you avoid some of the horror stories you may have heard about from friends and or books.

Whitney:  How long does the course go today?

Instructor:  Two hours, so it is not too bad.

Whitney:  We were hoping for one hour.

Instructor:  ……..

Heath:  mmmmhhmhmhmmhm  (elbowing Whitney)

Don’t question Whitney’s commitment.  It’s more like an A-D-D thing with her.  I took her to the Battle of Fredericksburg once where we joined a tour.  About 45 minutes into the tour, Whitney went all “toddler” on me and separated from the tour so she could chase squirrels and throw rocks at trees.  She was trying to be honest with the lady, and sure as shit, 1 hour into the class during an emotionally charged portion of the movie about getting your baby to latch on to the nipple, she leans into me for what I believe is going to be a sentimental comment about the connection she will have with her daughter.  She had these tears welling up in her eyes and she says, “I am getting excited about the fall season. Halloween will be nice out here—all the leaves changing and whatnot.”

My forecast for boobs was right on track.  The movie did not disappoint.  Even Whitney was impressed with the boobs we got to see initially.  There was even a moment when she leaned into me and said, “That girl has big old knockers” This whisper was met with a calm grunt of agreement from me.  I have learned never to get overly excited when faced with the prospect of analyzing boobs to my wife.  Heath, stay cool, don’t ruin the moment.

I think I became desensitized to breasts yesterday.  They were everywhere.  The teacher was grabbing her breasts, she was playing with this stuffed animal breast, and I was on breast overload.  All of these women in the movies were just throwing breasts all over the screen.  Right now, I could go walk out in town and a woman could fling her breast out and I wouldn’t give it a second look (this is a complete lie).  I posted on Facebook that I was going to write a blog on breastfeeding, and my friends were all quick to point out that my response was probably going to be similar to an immature teenager.  Well FB friends, I didn’t disappoint you.  Something as beautiful and genuinely unbelievable as the connection a baby has with their mother was initially only exciting to me because I was going to “legally” see boobs other than Whitney’s.  It is what it is.  I am a horrible man.

I learned a lot.  A question was posed about what a man can do to help out the wife during the initial month.  The instructor was rambling about support and being there for her for the little things.  This is when Whitney points out to me what my role will be.  She, again leans into me and says, “Essentially, you will be my slave.”

I am off to prepare myself for the work week.  I am hoping this week is as filled with as many boobs as my Saturday was.  I just wanted you to know, because I have been holding it in for years.

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Comments
  1. Whitney is absolutely right! You bring her water while she sits and nurses the baby. You change the baby and then hand the baby to her. And if she needs a C-section, then you do EVERYTHING.

    Good luck with that…

    And I gotta tell you, giant leaky boobs aren’t quite as awesome as they initially sound…

  2. […] 19. He blogs about becoming his wife’s slave. […]

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