Having Trouble Breastfeeding?

Funny Mom moment:

Hind story: Penny was in the hospital for a week and you don’t sleep there so I was running on fumes!!

Actual story:
Penny hasn’t eaten much since she was admitted but has been nursing often. She was down to nursing just once or twice a day before she was admitted to the hospital but since this is all she’s taking in, I have returned to being Penelope’s personal boob juice cow. 🐄

She regained some of her energy and attitude yesterday and was playing with Trolls stickers and coloring away, attempting to mark her territory on every surface of the room with one or the other.

It was beginning to get late and Penelope was showing signs that she was tired. You know the signs:
1. eye rubbing
2. yawning
3. screaming like a banshee
4. inability to know what they want
5. See # 3 again
6. Thrusting backwards without fear of falling
7. See #s 1-4

In midst of the tired crying tantrum she pointed at my chest in her way of telling me to whip my shirt up! I take off my bra, it’s way late and I’m too tired to care if the young resident doctors sees my big floppy mommy breasts in all their milky glory.

I pull up my shirt and she begins to nurse on my left boob. She immediately pushes back and smacks it like it’s being punished, then the sleepy tantrum begins again!

She points at my other breast so we switch over and she nurses no problem and calms down back to the Penelope that is sweet and kind and happy.

The rejection of my left breast continues throughout the night. I am so tired that I just think that maybe the right breast is spewing a better flavored boob juice or my left breast has been overworked and decided to go on strike.

Morning arrives and my bladder is yelling at me to arise from the heavenly cloud of comfy-ness that is a hospital pull out couch. I walk to the bathroom in our room as Penny screams like I am abandoning her for all eternity. I begin my morning routine. I look for my bra and when I finally find it I lift my shirt off to strap on the boulder holder.

As I am doing this, I catch a glimpse of my mom boobs in the mirror.


I look down and pull my nipple up so I can see it. (Don’t judge me!)

In my zombie-like sleepless mom state I can’t understand what I am seeing. I keep staring.

It’s Guy Diamond.

Guy Diamond.



About 45 seconds in my mind finally comes to the realization that it’s a sticker… on my nipple. Yes! I had a Guy Diamond sticker on my left nipple.

Picture of the culprit is attached for your reference and enjoyment.23659463_1951238925096677_1047355650353038426_n

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