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Foolishly, I thought that my second time around with breastfeeding might be a little less painful.

Nope.

Still painful.

I've become used to distorting my face in a silent scream of anguish with every latch. It gets better from that initial painful jolt, but it still hasn't become that thoughtless action that does not evoke my pain receptors from firing like crazy.

I have to keep reminding myself that this is only temporary and self-limited. The first two weeks are hardest right?

I also realize that sometimes, JL doesn't quite have his mouth as open as widely as he should to prevent additional pain, but sometimes, when he's hungry and frustrated and I'm tired, I let it slide (in pain all the while).

What keeps me going is knowing that the two of us will establish a rhythm and pretty soon it will be smooth sailing. I love knowing that he is getting all my antibodies and will be that much less likely to get ill, even with a daycare-attending toddler in the house. It's also pretty handy not having to make a bottle in the middle of the night, although it does limit feeding work solely on my shoulders. Also, the oxytocin (the neurohormone responsible for milk let-down) released with each session may make the maternal-infant attachment bond grow stronger --there is something very special about watching him nurse that rings all of my mama-bells. Not to mention the huge calorie burner it is - last time, I kept losing baby weight steadily, all the while eating pizza, ice cream and other diet-spoilers.

Who needs to work out when you can throw in an extra breast-feeding session?* Seriously, I can just slap on a sweatband and nurse away.

Until then, it's ibuprofen, topical lanolin and dreams of a pain-free (and more sleep-filled) future.

_{*I  jest. Breastfeeding is no cardiovascular or muscle-tone forming substitute for good old-fashioned exercise.}