Jan B asked why we refer to cows. Actually, some days I thought of myself as a squirrel racing around trying to get the days work done. Or a monkey, with a baby clinging to my chest hair (so to speak). Or a seal - in recognition of my sleek "breastfeeding figure." (HA!) Or a possum plodding around with three kids on my back all day.

I remember another part of my early breastfeeding. Baby #1 (Ed, the brilliant idiot who races motorcycles)  was about a week old and I tried to follow the health nurse's advice to give him a bottle "just in case something happens to you." I couldn't bring myself to do it, and gave the baby and bottle to my husband. He started to bring the bottle to the baby's lips.  I jumped up and screamed NO!, grabbed the baby, and decided then and there that ABM was just plain WRONG for my kid. It was a gut-level reaction, and from then on I learned to trust my gut-level instincts even when my head or someone else's head was disagreeing.

LInda Smith, Dayton OH, enjoying my adult children now.