The Boss and I had time before our return flight yesterday, so I decided to feed her inside the airport terminal before boarding. Her face was fixed firmly to my bosom when the airline’s gate agent made this announcement:
The flight to New York is oversold, and we are asking for volunteers to give up their seats. In exchange, you’ll receive a $400 voucher towards a future flight, and we will rebook you on another plane leaving an hour from now.
It was a sweet deal. But how strange would it have been to approach the ticket counter with The Boss sucking loudly at my teat! I’m all for breastfeeding in public, but even that scenario would have been too awkward for me.
Instead, I waited for The Boss to finish before speaking with the gate agent. By that time, no more volunteers were needed.
The Boss didn’t seem to mind.
Like many people, The Boss doesn’t sleep well in a strange bed. The new environment assaults her senses and makes for fitful nights and fleeting naps.
To comfort The Boss during this vacation, she and I are sharing a bed, and I’ve taken to nursing her there as well. It’s made a modest improvement to her nighttime sleep.
However, there’s a drawback to this approach. I tend to sleep through The Boss’s feedings, which means she isn’t burped. The result is one fart-filled baby in the morning.
Lately, my breasts — Gertrude and Gloria — hadn’t been making as much milk as in the past. I worried The Boss wasn’t getting enough nourishment, that she might slip into that dreadful “failure to thrive” zone.
As it turns out, the work slowdown is a normal thing. My super-mammaries have just gotten more efficient at producing milk when The Boss demands it. Give it up for Gertrude and Gloria!