Tag: breastfeeding

Normalize it.

I’m not Alanis or Giselle. I’m not Olivia Wilde. I’m not even a little bit famous. I’m Rachel Eade, and I’m a mother who nurses her babies. I nursed London for several reasons. At the time, it was all I knew thanks to my mother and the ladies in my family who exposed me to this natural feeding early on in life. My mom likes to remind me that I nursed until I was close to three, which is probably why I am so awesome. When London was born, buying formula was not a full time feeding option in my single mom budget. Luckily she was a champ and took to nursing very easily so the decision really was easy and we weaned around 15 months. Hudson, my now 20 month old, is still nursing. We nurse on demand, he can actually speak the words “I nurse” so there is no guessing his objective as he crawls into my lap. Maybe I am completely oblivious or just not concerned with what other people think of me when they see me nursing in public. I attempt to be modest and discreet but I can only suffocate my child under a blanket for so long. Sometimes the blanket falls off. Sometimes I do not have blanket or cover close by.

No one has ever asked ME to eat my meal in a bathroom stall or alone in a corner closet, so I will respectfully decline if ever asked to nurse my child in such a place. I have been quite appalled at exposed flesh on both men and women of all shapes and sizes, and to the best of my knowledge their flesh is not providing nutrients or comfort to another life. I do not understand why our culture has yet to full embrace the normalcy and beauty of nursing. The bond that can be made between a mother and child is incredibly strong. Let me also mention, selfishly, I lost every pregnancy pound and then some, thanks to nursing.

I’m super grateful to have these memories of nursing my children, and huge thank you to my dear friends Stephanie Cotta Photography for the beach capture and Kat Braman Photography for documenting us at home!




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We Won’t Wean….

The end.



Well not really the end, hence the title. Each month we inch away from one year old and towards two years old. Hudson will be 17 months next weekish and despite two mastitis issues in the last month you might think I was ready to pull the plug on nursing. Each time the painful and terribly frustrating infection took over my milk duct I just couldn’t help but think how hard it would be to end nursing all together. The pain and discomfort is just not something I am ready for. Sure, I would love to have my freedom from nursing sometimes. I would love to wear a shirt without a bra and pad and no worry of leaking. I would love not to have a toddler clawing at me in public and pulling down my shirt. As much as I might love it I would also miss it. Hudson will likely be the last baby I nurse and when it is over with him it is over forever. That bond can not be replaced. Hudson has never taken a bottle but more than a handful of times and he dislikes the taste of the almond milk I introduced him to. He does he all sorts of food so I know that he would be just find if and when the time comes, but for now, we nurse on.

To the people who look at my strange because the little boy in my lap is a bit larger than typical nursing baby, look away or applaud but you don’t bother me.

To the ladies who ask me how I lost the baby weight, just know I am selfishly still maintaining myself and avoiding the gym this way.

To my daughter who misses out on my attention frequently because I am nursing her brother, thank you for your patience.

To my plastic surgeon, thanks for a reliable set.

To the mother’s who nurse or mother’s who couldn’t nurse, you did everything that was best for you and you baby.

To the liquor I do not drink, you’re not missed. Ok, maybe just a little, but that is all.

One thing I am certain of and that is I will not be nursing Hudson forever even if right now it feels like that may be the case. We won’t be sneaking nursing breaks in Kindergarten nor will I be bottling it for his preschool thermos. It will end sooner, and when that day comes it will feel too soon. For now, we nurse on.

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Luckily, it’s not contagious…

is all I can say about the illness that plagued me the last half of the week. I am not one to brag, but I am quite the seasoned nursing mother. Further more, nothing has changed in Hudson’s nursing routine in the last 15 months of his life. We nurse on demand. I started feeling kinda worn down and beginning flu like symptoms late last week. I tried to get a little extra rest (yeah right, that is a sick joke) and tried to up my vitamins and water. Slowly but surely, my right boob began to feel sore, show signs of redness, and become fully engorged. Now I don’t have small boobs to begin with, and I apologize to the friends who received the text image proof of this, but when I tell you one side of me was the size of an average cantaloupe, I’m not exaggerating. The pain was so intense, like hold your breath sharpness, sore to look at or even so much as brush against, and nothing was giving me relief.

Boob soup- hanging it over/in warm water and massaging. No luck.

Hot shower- I almost passed out, and then I had to dry my hair, doubt whammy.

Heat pad and warm compress- only released a few drips.

Nursing Hudson- he quickly lost interest in that side as nothing was coming out.

Back and forth via text with a lactation nurse, and sending Mike to Whole Foods for my list of crazy items to attempt a homeopathic witch potion- SUCCESS. After 48 hours and a close call with antibiotics, I can say I think I’ve healed myself. Mastitis, you are not my friend and you are not welcome back. 

Recipe for my “Get your boob loose juice” …. raw honey, cayenne pepper, vitamin c, echinacea, phytolacca, garlic (i couldn’t handle that part), and SLEEP.

Now back to my regular scheduled life, including a surprise trip to DISNEY on Friday. Yay!

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