Novel & Cerita Breastfeeding Stories

She stretched herself and yawned. Although motherhood was rewarding. It certainly was exhausting. It was amazing how demanding that one little person could be. She spend more time nursing than sleeping. There were days that she cried from exhaustion. There were a few days that she cried constantly and no matter what Andre or Enza did, she would continue to cry. She was so relieved that she only had a couple more weeks before she would be finished nursing. She had heard that human women breastfed for over a year. She always shook her head in amazement. There was no possible way that was true. Just another myth made up about humans. They would not be able to endure the exhaustion.

But when she was new-born, she was a beautiful, little squashed-up red prune. Cara held close to my breast, she suckles contentedly... Wonder how long it'll be before she does more than eat and sleep? However wonderful My Baby might be, the novelty of breast-feeding is wearing off fast. Bored, Cara supported in one arm, I browse my tablet, scrolling the feed with a thumb. Somehow, they have gotten hold of my email address and my In-Box is bombarded with ads for milk substitutes, nappies, early learning for babies... Jabbing my thumb at the offending posts, I delete one after another...

He was glad for the kind of mums God had given them. Keith picked what he needed and went back into the bathroom. He wiped her body dry as quickly as possible and he helped her to wear the sanitary pad which he had stuck on the mesh pant. Kelsey felt at home with the way her husband cared for her and she once again started to remember how beautiful her life was before the abduction. Her breasts were getting fuller and they were beginning to pain her. Keith knew her colostrum was building up so he advised her to eat first before attempting to breastfeed the babies.

She will have to start doing it all alone. Joba told her that I was a good person and will never hurt the boy. He trust me which was why he entrusted the little boy to my care and I have proven to be a great mother to him. The lady later dropped the issue and allowed her son to stay with me. I usually send pictures to Joba on how fresh and big the little boy was getting. Joba will always thank me for loving the boy as mine. But it surprises me why I can't get pregnant.

Black's POV I could hear a knock on my door as I just finished fixing my bed. "Black, breakfast is ready downstairs." My aunt said. "I'll be back tonight." "Take care, Aunt Autumn." I replied. Autumn Vera, or Aunt Autumn as I call her, is my aunt that took me in after both my mom and dad passed away. She's a very kind person that agreed to take care of me despite not even talking properly with her before.

Laura pursed her lips and answered easily, “Just… exclusive breastfeeding. Nathan says I’m like a dairy cow now. It drives me crazy.” Laura had always been slender, with a modest figure. But after giving birth, whether from good nutrition or sheer genetics, her bust had gone up three sizes. Her daughter couldn’t finish all the milk, so Laura used a pump daily and stored the extra in the fridge. In just a few months, she had filled an entire freezer. Every time Nathan saw her with the pump, he’d glance sideways and mutter, “Even a cow doesn’t produce this much.” He didn’t mean it as an insult, but it still rubbed Laura the wrong way.

We were leaving. The nurse launched into her final breastfeeding speech right there in the doorway, talking about latch and positions and cluster feeding like I had not spent the last few days learning all that the hard way. “Remember, with twins it can be tricky at first, but you’re doing great so far. Call if the soreness gets worse or if one seems to be eating way more than the other.” She said it all cheerful, clipboard in hand, while I sat there nodding and internally panicking because Sara had already proven she was the champion eater and my nipples were paying the price.

I, Whitney Quigley, had been married to my husband, Thomas Walker, for three years. We welcomed our firstborn recently, Oliver Walker. However, I had been struggling due to low breastmilk production, leaving my baby crying with hunger. Looking at my well-endowed figure, I couldn't help but feel upset. I clearly had the volume, so why couldn't I produce milk for my child? Thomas and I had tried various remedies such as taking herbs and supplements, but nothing worked.

I pulled my breast out and helped her latch while Lane watched. “What?” I asked, seeing her concerned face. “Doesn’t that hurt?” she asked as Emily sucked with intensity. “Yes, it does at first but then it just stops hurting” I admitted. I was amazed with the ease at which I was able to breastfeed. I had heard horror stories from women who had tried to breastfeed but weren’t able either because it was too time consuming or because they didn’t produce enough milk. I was glad that with all of my medical history my body at least was able to take care of my baby.

Her tiny fingers pointed toward her delicate lips. "Come here, Honey," Laura said, stretching out her arms, asking Aryan to place Baby Nafla in her lap. Aryan complied with Laura's request, unbuttoning his shirt. He then offered his breast to Baby Nafla, as parents say, the more a baby suckles, the more breast milk is produced. This was the first time Laura had breastfed. Baby Nafla's tiny lips and still-rough tongue eagerly suckled on Laura's nipple, and Laura's lips parted as a soft moan escaped her, her face turning red.