Oh, I’ve been to nurse-ins. I’ve tandem-nursed, twice, and intentionally. My middle son breastfed until age 4. All my kids have various protein intolerances, requiring me to maintain dietary restrictions shared mostly by medieval hermits. I’ve nursed my godson. I’ve nursed his sister. I nursed my friend’s baby just to make sure I could, just in case her mom ran out of milk. I donated milk. I wrote an essay about all this milk-swapping. I got dubbed a Dairy Godmother. I presented at a breastfeeding conference.
All this breastfeeding means I know some people. I belong to some Facebook pages about boobs, and have seen people get banned for their boobs, and mostly talked a hell of a lot about boobs (which, let’s be honest, are the real purpose for the internet). I’ve frequented the help forums. I’ve been privy to some conversations.
People ask some weird shit.
Can I make yogurt out of my breastmilk?
Making yogurt is easy. The type of milk you choose to use is up to you. So yes, it’s possible. Whether or not it’s advisable is a question best left to you, your baby, and God.
Can I make soap out of my breastmilk? Because I have milk in my refrigerator, but it’s been in there too long, but it’s not spoiled and I don’t feel OK giving it to my baby, but I can’t bring myself to throw it out.
Making soap is also easy. But do you really want to wash yourself or someone you love with your not-spoiled-yet breastmilk? My head says it’s hygienic. My heart says hell no.
Where do I buy bras to fit boobs larger than the average human head?
When your cup size approaches the middle range of the alphabet, Victoria’s Secret is no longer an option. You’re condemned to buying internet underwear (Is that a band name? It should be). Various weirdly named companies—Hot Milk, Cake, Bravado—compete to furnish your boob harness. Pick something pretty and pray it fits.
Should I stop nursing?
But I have low milk supply/nipple tumors/a crippling addiction to mainlining rocket fuel.
Is green milk normal?
Yep. So is blue milk. You learn something every day that you didn’t necessarily want to know.
What does your toddler say milk tastes like?
He thinks it’s a stupid question and says it tastes like mama milk. His withering look makes up for not quite knowing how to pronounce the word “dumbass.”
Do you really spray milk everywhere when you have an orgasm?
No. But if a woman refuses to answer the question, it means yes.
What does your toddler call your boobs?
Boobs. No seriously, milks, because that’s what they’re for. He doesn’t lay some claim to my bras, though, which some kids do, and to which I would have to say: Shut it down.
Can I drink my breastmilk?
If you have a functioning mouth. But do you really want to?
What if I run out of creamer?
It makes an acceptable substitute, with the added benefit that you don’t need to worry about the calories, because you made them to begin with.
Have you ever drunk your breastmilk?
If you’re lactating, you’ve tried it. Don’t deny it, Ms. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.
Will breastmilk cure my kid’s earaches?
Yes. But put it in an eyedropper first. It’s too damn hard to aim without getting it in his hair.
What about eye goop?
It’s magic for eye goop.
So why the fuck didn’t Bob Costas use it during the last Olympics?
Mainstream medicine, man. He didn’t know enough hippies. If his wife was lactating, she’d have cleared up that pinkeye before the next commercial break.
If we have a nurse-in on Mardi Gras, can I bring beads?
Consensus says no. Heart says yes.
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