No Use Crying Over Spilled Colostrum

Motherhood

Sep 15

It’s official, my cow era has begun!

I still can’t even believe it. We’re ten days from meeting our little guy and five days post-permission from my OB-GYN. I had to write that to make sure anyone reading this is also speaking with their healthcare provider before beginning their colostrum-harvesting moo-vement…or, let us say, journey. However you’d like to call it!

I’m still “udder-ly” shocked and, between us, my nipples are kind of sore…or itchy? But the fascination prompted my inner editor to get to writing almost immediately after it happened. So, let me start off by proudly broadcasting that I’ve managed to extract almost 10 mL since my very second pump about a week ago.

My first time was technically last Monday when the gestational clock struck 36 weeks. That’s when they tell you you can safely start collecting colostrum. I had done research on the subject throughout this entire pregnancy and pretty much intended to try since long before I ever got pregnant. I’ve watched reels, read articles, asked fellow mom friends, and even studied lactation consultants so I could get the maneuver just right.

But Monday sucked…no pun intended. It hurt (first-time manual pumping was certifiably uncomfortable), it felt awkward, and it was kind of defeating. But I quickly brushed it off and promised myself I’d try again the following day.

That night, I was met with a sort of sharp, tingling sensation in my breasts—one that, little did I know, made me confident enough to try again the next day. I mentally concluded that it was my boobies activating themselves. So, when I sat with my Medela hand pump the following evening, I started right away with the side that gave me a zing the night before, and there I was…enamored by those tiny drops of liquid gold!

To say it was gold is sort of an overstatement. It looked more like—disgusting, as it sounds—saliva after coffee. Not gold or yellow-toned like the movies would have you believe, but not entirely clear either. It was sticky…mostly to the pump. But it still carried enough drops of weight that, when I would pour whatever I extracted into the colostrum protector, I was enchanted by the stream.

“Some people are decanting wine. Lately, I’m decanting colostrum.”

*Image generated by Sarah Elle, Prose Club*

I’m not entirely sure why I feel compelled to write about this either. It has nothing to do with my typical content, but can’t a woman be excited to share about her latest milking journey?

Can’t we write about the color of those drops or how absolutely riveting it is to witness almost-imperceptible drops of titty-liquid pool into the collector by the milliliter? My past clients and elementary school friends must scoff at the indignity of it all, but what of these few and seldom blog readers who come across this little entry and think, “Thank God there’s another cow out to pasture”? After all, it was those shameless Instagram moms who taught me about the right tools and angles—the ones who shared their laid-back (or rather, fully perched-forward) approach and reminded me that there really is no use crying over spilled antenatal milk. I owe those women my sore boobs and filled-to-the-brim syringes.

So, why not casually discuss the moo-taboo for other moms-to-be? Why worry about the opinions of my high school clique? They’re nowhere near this particular barnyard. But for the moms out to lunch…or pasture with me, so much as sharing what I’ve learned, experienced, and smeared in nipple butter can be helpful to another. I hope that these little tips and golden drops of wisdom might serve you on your milking journey. If, at the very least, you get a chuckle and a little more confidence at the teat, then these udders have not suffered in vain, and I’ll consider it a successful harvest.

“One woman’s undignified is another’s liquid gold.”

I’ll start off by sharing the major tips that I’ve gathered from the herd. This is, hands down, the most useful information I’ve received for easing into colostrum collection.

1. Get in cow pose

I’ll never forget the first time an Instagram mom propped herself into tabletop position and sternly swore by this angle. She said that she’d tried sitting normally while manually pumping or hand expressing, and nothing worked as efficiently as having her boobs perpendicular to the ground. Since then, I bend over at least forty-five degrees or more—not only do the drops accumulate faster at the bottom, but let gravity do its thang, am I right?

2. Hand express while you manually pump

Many momfluencers opt for one or the other; I personally do both. I can’t confidently tell you how well the manual pump works without simultaneous hand expression, and I won’t dare rely solely on hand expression without my manual pump.

There’s something about the combination of—disclaimer: NSFW—nipple stimulation from the manual pump and the breast tissue massage that triggers that milk-flow reflex.

I actually purchased the Haakaa colostrum pump first, but after coming across a lactation consultant who dissuaded me from the stickiness of both the Haakaa’s silicone and the overall viscosity of colostrum, I returned the Haakaa and opted for the Medela Colostrum Collecting Kit. Not only did it include their standard manual pump, which I fully plan on using postpartum alongside the Eufy S2 Pro, but it also came with the colostrum protectors, which I use to pour all the contents of my pump and then use the syringes to collect, freeze, and store whatever I harvested.

3. Use your pump upside down!

This is specific to the Medela Manual Pump, but some fellow mama out there swore by this method and I have yet to try another way. The gist of it is simple: turn the pump upside down. The mechanism is the same, but the drops sit between the breast shield and the connector, allowing you to collect greater quantities without it flowing into the valve and pour with greater ease.

So far, I’ve only had to wash the breast shield, connector, and separate collector cup because the milk never reaches any other part of the pump. It’s derangedly brilliant. And even though I can’t fully grasp the difference between the pump being upside down or right side up, I’m not really interested in figuring it out because this works perfectly.

Just take my word for it. We may not all understand the mechanisms of God and the universe, but sometimes, there’s no need. Just be in awe and wonder, and let yourself be baffled by the inexplicable ways of the upside-down Medela pump.

4. Use the collector container/cup

I’m not even remotely sure how women can successfully collect those elusive drops of colostrum with the collector nibs. Even so much as a plastic pill cup or shot glass would work more efficiently. And though I’m not personally attached to those microscopic drops of colostrum at the bottom of the container, I can imagine the frustration of trying to catch every single drop with a syringe. So, it’s a no from me. Bend over, massage those titties, pump with your Medela, and then use your syringe to suck up those drops of treasure out of a cup. Then, flick the air out, measure ’em, date ’em, and freeze them for future use.

So far, I pump twice a day. Once after a hearty breakfast and a morning shower. The second time, at night, after a great day and a warm magnesium salt bath. Nipples permitting, of course. Some days, I can only sincerely manage one pump. I’m still getting these milkers used to the pain of pumping. And I never push beyond what I’m comfortable with.

5. Pump after a warm bath or shower

This is another golden social media nugget. And even Google agrees it’s best to warm the girls before milking them. I’ve personally taken a bath every night (or almost) since the start of my pregnancy and, as of late, stay shaved and showered in case mister decides to make an early appearance. So, this little routine has somehow fit itself perfectly into ours.

It’s also the last few weeks of pregnancy and I’ve taken advantage of my maternity “leave.” Most of my days consist of last-minute nesting, some very low-intensity workouts, soaking up every bittersweet moment of life before baby, and yes… taking many, many baths to alleviate the late-term nerve pain. So, it’s not like I’m necessarily going out of my way to bathe so I can warm up my ta-tas. And I’m not forcing myself to abide by every social media rule to get two pumps in a day. If it works out, great. If it doesn’t, I trust in my Provider, for it is He who lays me down in green pastures…pastures, get it?

On the night I tried pumping without a bath or shower, nothing came out. But that was my experience. I’m sure a good breast massage and heating pad will do just fine. Otherwise, use it as an excuse to take a nice, warm bath before pumping because mama deserves some pampering too.

6. Keep them titties moisturized!

There is a lot of nuance around this—individual sensitivities or allergies—so don’t take my word for it. I’m personally using a nipple butter with lanolin in it at the moment. I’ve read a lot of contradictory statements in people’s preferences and experiences, so I’m not going to pretend to know what’s right for you.

Some women use organic nipple butters, prescribed creams, and coconut or olive oils (though, from what I read, coconut can be an allergen for the baby)—and I’ve gathered that different ingredients work differently on different women. So, all I’ll say is this: pumping of any kind can leave your ladies chapped and sore. Colostrum itself leaves a dry, cracked-looking, sticky residue on your nipples, so wipe them down after each pump, for sure, and then pick a moisturizer that works for you. I’ve had a pleasant experience with very small amounts of lanolin in my nipple butter lately.

I am the first to admit that there is a discomfort that comes with pumping, and even though I’m “training” my boobies to get used to that pain, sometimes it’s just too much for a second session. So I listen to my body and wait. The Medela Purelan cream has worked for me personally. It eases the soreness and itchiness almost immediately after and rehydrates the girlies very well. I’m, of course, open to other alternatives when the time comes, and I do have silverettes packed and ready. All I can really tell you is this: them udders are about to look a little crazy. Nothing will usher you into your cow era quite like seeing the girls dry, sore, and stretched beyond recognition. Thankfully, there are products designed to make you feel more like a woman and less like livestock, so do your research, listen to your body, and use whatever brings you—and your hardworking titties—the most relief.

7. Eat well and keep your energy right

I had an epiphany a couple of days ago. We had just come back from a family party and the vibes were so high that, despite the second—okay, third—piece of chocolate cake, I still decided to pump that night. I felt that there was more than just nutrition that went into the equation. Sometimes, your emotional state matters just as much as what you actually ate. So, even though that pump mainly consisted of pasta and birthday cake, the joy and gratitude I felt that day, I believe, contributed to the quality and the quantity of what I extracted that night. I managed a full 3 mL that night in a single pump session.

Wildly enough, I got sick a couple of days later after eating some questionable leftovers, and purposely chose not to pump that day because it just didn’t feel right. Of course, you secrete different antibodies when you’re “sick,” but if it’s mainly attributed to too much junk food, I’m personally opting out.

I believe the baby receives what you receive, so it was a very valuable lesson to learn ahead of time. This just means that, for me personally, eating well and not drinking while breastfeeding will contribute to the quality of what I feed my baby. Not to mention, I’ve of course been learning about postpartum nutrition and milk-supply diet optimization.

But even with all this talk of fine-tuning the milkmaid, I refuse to turn my body into a high-stress dairy operation. Which brings me to perhaps the most important lesson of all:

8. There is no obligation

I’ve taken all pressure off myself to either pump a certain quantity or a certain number of times before the baby arrives. When it feels right and I’m not overstimulated or overly sore, that’s when I choose to pump…and not a moment sooner.

I’ve stopped myself mid-pump or chosen to forego a session (or both) based on the state of my mind and body. Sometimes, the ladies are still too sore, the conditions aren’t right, or I really just don’t feel like it…so I don’t. I’m not the type of woman who will stress about how my baby is fed (we’ve already decided to breastfeed, pump, and formula feed our baby, based on what the moment asks of). Why would I stress before he’s even here?

I learned that even a single drop of colostrum is worth more than its weight and color in gold. Whatever I can harvest joyfully is an honor. I thank my body without demanding too much from it.

I also learned that your prenatal supply does not at all correlate to your postpartum supply, so even if I didn’t manage to extract a single drop, I can trust that my body will do what it needs once the baby arrives. And if God has other plans, we’ve happily selected and stocked up on our chosen brand of baby formula ahead of time.

“Measure the milk. Never the mother.”

Well, ladies. I’m called back to the cattle. We’re on the ten-day countdown ’til sir’s arrival and I’m making the most out of what little time we have left—cleaning, relaxing, doing some jumping jacks (IYKYK), collecting colostrum, and just basking in the last few days of life before our baby.

This is such a sacred time in our lives. With the first fall breeze in the air, slow mornings and earlier nights, it’s been such a quiet little chapter in our story together. I keep teetering between the immense joy and anticipation of our son’s arrival and the bittersweet introspection of leaving behind the last twelve years of “just us.” I could write a million pages about what I’m feeling, how much I love my husband, and the little (albeit strong) kicks to the ribs I get every couple of hours. But some things are best left felt and unwritten. This feels like one of those things.

So, with that, I leave you with what might just be the second-to-last article of my pregnancy. I’ve contemplated many times starting a sub-branch to my Substack for mom content. We’ll see how things turn out.

I’ve learned that it’s more often the surface-level, satirical articles that come out before those long, emotional pieces. Perhaps that’s why I’ve temporarily left the world of books behind. Because these long, emotional moments are about to become my everyday reality and I’d rather ease into the material of each article than try to pump a whole novel about motherhood on the first shot. Because, yes, even the editorial udders need some time for their milk to come in.

All I know is that I’ll be back with field reports from the other side of the pasture soon enough. Maybe I’ll write about diaper blowouts and intimacy after induction. Maybe I’ll dive deeper into the moo-taboos of motherhood, or perhaps I’ll come back with an entire magazine for you to read. Whatever it is, I suspect motherhood will give me more to say than I’ll have time to write. Perhaps that is the real cow era—not the pump or the syringes, but the realization that I am now both the dairy farm and the content mill.

For now, I’ve got liquid gold in the freezer, an endless supply of golden nuggets in my head, and a pair of udders apparently capable of producing both.

Consider me ready to pump out whatever comes next.

I’ll meet you on the other side of the pasture.