Mammary Flowers
After seeing anatomical illustrations of the human mammary gland, I visualized the structures becoming a flower with a stem-like flow of milk. In my early days of motherhood and breastfeeding, we faced difficulties with dangerously slow weight gain and low milk supply; I counted ounces fed, minutes nursing, and weight gained. These paintings are organized by the time of day for each feeding when nursing my infant. On a typical day, we nursed ten or more times. The cycle continues like phases of the moon or the rising and falling of tides.
Midnight Garden
Oil on birch panel, 18”x24”
Midnight: is it today? Is it tomorrow? The "beginning" of a cycle can be ambiguous. Night time nursing is where I began the series. "Midnight Garden" was one of the first pieces completed in the summer of 2020
Through the Night
Oil on birch panel, 24”x18”
Our bedroom window faces east, so on the many night time wakes and feedings I would often see the moonrise in the eastern sky. In lieu of looking at my phone for the time, I would notice where the moon was, and look up the moonrise time the next morning out of curiosity for what time it had been. The moonrise shifts by about an hour each night, and this became my way of keeping time.
Like counting rosary beads, the lunar cycle gave a rhythm to nighttime nursing. It was a long time until my boy slept through the night, but of course a common question parents of babies receive is: "do they sleep through the night yet?"
Mamma
Oil on clay board, 20”x16”
The blue hour - the glow of twilight that precedes the dawn. Most nights we woke to shift around, nurse again, and drift off for one more cycle of sleep before rising for the day.
I've never been a morning person, and I'm generally not ready to wake for the day until around 8. For many people, the blue hour starts their day. But I'm always glad for that last little bit of sleep.
Liquid Gold
Oil on clay board, 16”x20”
In the morning the sun comes flooding in the east facing windows and our bedroom fills with a golden glow.
Online and in mom groups, pumped milk is often called "liquid gold" because it can be so hard to get. When I was trying to increase my supply and build a 'freezer stash' I would usually pump after breakfast. After a couple months of only getting .05 oz a day in 15 minutes, I eventually gave up.
Transfer Weight
Oil on birch panel, 18”x24”
"Transfer weight" refers to measuring how much milk a baby eats while nursing by first weighing the hungry (naked or freshly diapered) infant, then nursing, weighing the baby again, and doing some math. It's an important tool, and it can become a point of anxious fixation.
Typically, our appointments to go through this exercise were in the mid morning. Transporting a hungry baby and being sure not to feed him too close to our appointment time was challenging to say the least.
Once we no longer needed these appointments, the time slot was usually filled with outdoor walks in the woods, where we could sit and nurse freely as needed. The freedom to move about, without my having to pack and prepare bottles, was a huge motivator and a part of our experience that I treasured.
Out To Lunch
Oil on birch panel, 12”x16”
When in public, it was always the question of how hidden do we want to be? I wore my baby in a wrap most of the time, and the extra fabric offered a little bit of modesty without doing the full drape (I could never manage to nurse fully covered anyway, it was uncomfortable for us both)
Support Group
Oil on clay board, 16”x20”
I sat in community with other nursing mothers a lot in our early months. Through hearing their stories and questions, I learned so much. We were each trying to hold up our own little worlds, sitting on the floor or bouncing on a yoga ball with napping babies.
(Failure to) Thrive
Oil on birch panel, 24”x18”
By mid afternoon I often felt empty. My fussing baby would hit and cry because he was hungry and I had nothing left. This was the time of day that we most often needed to offer a bottle of formula. The juxtaposition of lush, thriving leaves and thin, empty mammaries. Fat baby arm rolls compared to my trim little string bean.
The Witching Hour
Oil on birch panel, 12”x16”
Sundown, the witching hour - a period of time in the early evening during which babies are just fussy. It felt like a approaching storm every night. I would gather snacks or eat an early dinner, queue up something on the TV or podcasts, and hunker down in the oversized recliner to nurse and be a pacifier. Bottles or binkies would be angrily pushed away. I don't remember anymore when this phase passed, but it was so regular while it lasted.
Goodnight Moon
Oil on birch panel, 16”x12”
And finally, bed time! The soft glow of the full moon and lightning bugs in the trees.
Nursing at bedtime was our very last routine to change. For 21 months, every night