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Breastfeeding has been an adventure, to say the least. I thought it would be a breeze, and that the tough part was accepting the horrendous changes happening to my boobs in preparation for this feeding commitment. Not only did my breasts triple in size (something my husband found exhilarating, until I chose to purchase a boatload of granny bras for maximum comfort and support. Not so sexy now, eh?) Due to the rapid increase in size, my breasts also became plagued with dark stretch marks, and my areola now look as thought flying saucers have taken refuge on my chest. Seriously, I have never seen nipples so large and dark, I assumed all these changes meant that my body was prepping to become the ultimate nursing machine. Alas. No such luck.

Turns out that although my areolae were now the size of Jupiter, my nipples were too small and unassuming for my daughter to get a proper latch. As though I needed to have my nipples protruding forcefully out of my shirt whenever I caught a cool breeze, screaming, “Chicken’s done!” And as if I had not been humiliated enough, I had to endure the hospital’s lactation consultant poking and prodding my nips, trying to get them to jut out farther, all the while my daughter screaming and writhing like a little naked mole rat, hungry and unable to figure out why no one was remedying that problem. After making it to second base with the consultant, she determined that synthetic nipples were going to be necessary and whipped out nipple shields. Essentially, nipple shields are like the ultimate, plastic, jumbo nipple, guaranteeing your child has NO ISSUE figuring out where to take her hourly snack. After practice suctioning these bad boys on to my chest, adding to the already ridiculous appearance of my breasts, Addison finally found the motherload! For me, however, it felt like a little baby dinosaur was sucking the life force out of me. I sat in the hospital bed, starring at my husband in horror, kicking my legs back and forth to try to distract myself from the discomfort, all the while thrilled that she had FINALLY caught on and was blissfully eating. My child wasn’t going to starve. Hallelujah! My nipples, on the other hand, they might never recover from serving as a human pacifier slash vending machine.

Fortunately, now that I spend close to four hours a day with my babe suctioned on to my chest, I’ve found interesting ways to entertain myself. Thank you, Apple, for the many iPhone applications that now amuse me during the wee hours of the morning as I lie in wait for my hungry bug to fill her belly. I don’t think I’ve ever read so many articles from the New York Times, or spent so much time Twittering and Facebooking, all from my mobile phone. And best of all, I am becoming a master at Sudoku! I’m just grateful that I live in a digital age where it’s so easy to reach the outside world with the navigation of only one hand and another being strapped to my body.

Multitasking is swell.