The post I didn't think I'd write

When I was 13, most girls had gotten their period. I hadn't and when I finally did, it disappeared for months, and then came back for weeks. My breasts weren't developing like the other girls, and any breasts I did have were because I was overweight. I noticed extra body hair but thinning hair on my head and carried most of my weight around my mid-section. Puberty - the time I was supposed to be "becoming a woman" - made me feel like the opposite.

Eventually, my mother took me to a gynecologist who then referred me to an endocrinologist. After tests which included bloodwork and ultrasounds, it was confirmed that I had Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome/Disease (PCOS). Tiny cysts had formed on my ovaries, throwing off the hormones in my body, creating an overabundance of testosterone and a deficit of estrogen. This disease can also cause the body to become insulin resistant, which is why most people are characterized by carrying the weight in the mid-section and some develop Type 2 diabetes. For more info, please click the link.

And what's worse, I had developed it at a critical time in my development. This means that I'd never grow breasts right for my body size. I have hypoplastic breasts. By definition, this means that much of my mammary tissue was never developed. I'd struggle with weight and body image issues for the rest of my life. I was put on birth control at age 14 to regulate my hormones and periods - the only treatment for this disease.

At that first doctor's appointment, the endocrinologist laid something on me that was heavy for any adolescent - I may have a hard time having kids, if I could even get pregnant on my own. My mind couldn't grasp it and had no need to until I met Mike and we were getting married. I wondered how long we'd have to try before we went through IVF, or how many heartbreaks we'd suffer trying to start a family.

But right before our wedding, I had hit my lowest weight, was in great shape, and was on Metformin - a drug that helped with the insulin resistance and helped lower testosterone levels. In addition to my birth control, I was fairly "normal." We decided to go off birth control after our wedding to give ourselves the time I was sure it would take us to get pregnant.

I got pregnant on our honeymoon.

I was determined to nurse my daughter. I took breastfeeding classes and when she came early and wouldn't latch, I hired lactation consultants, pumped round the clock, and took every herbal supplement under the sun to get my supply up. I smelled like maple syrup from the fenugreek and like licorice from the fennel. I never got more than 2 ounces at each pump and without her latching, I never got more. After a few weeks, we went to formula full-time because I was entering a dark place being attached to a milking machine for what seemed like every waking moment. Our daughter has turned out exceptionally bright, healthy, and beautiful.

We decided we wanted another baby and would start trying when our daughter was 18 months old. I knew that we would not have the same luck the second time, though I was back on Metformin, had gotten myself back in shape, and had just lost all the weight. I stopped birth control and we started "trying."

I was pregnant two weeks later.

I knew I was going to try and nurse again despite my "failure" the first time. When my son was born almost three weeks ago, he latched onto my breast within minutes of being born. I have a photo of this and it is one of my most precious pictures - one I don't show people but one that makes me swell with love and pride at something so simple, so innocent - a mother giving life and then food to her baby. Life in its most simplest form.

Within days, it was evident that even though my milk came in, it was not enough for him. We had decided from the beginning that we wanted to supplement anyway, for a variety of reasons and thankfully, he has no problem going from breast to bottle.

In those first few days, he was attached to me all day and all night because I know the law of supply and demand. The more he sucks and drains the breast, the more milk I'd make. And still, after most feedings, unless it was more than 5 hours, he'd cry for more food. And when I'd try and pump if I had to go out, I'd only get three ounces, which was enough for one feeding, but it was over the time of two. So he was needing double what I was making.

Still, I was okay with this. He was getting around 10-12 ounces of breastmilk a day and the rest was supplemented with formula. I know that some breastmilk is better than no breastmilk, though I have no ill judgment against those mothers who solely formula feed, and I was happy that he was even getting some.

And then I found that lump.

I had to have my nipple sliced into and was not allowed to nurse or pump on that side until it healed. With an already low supply, by the time I could nurse and pump in three days, my supply was almost gone.

I was determined to get it back up.

I'm on day three of trying to reestablish my supply, however little it was to begin with. I again smell like maple syrup and licorice. I drove 40 miles to Whole Foods today to get Goat's Rue - a natural galactagogue and an herbal equivalent to Metformin. I also pump, but this time my baby latches, which is much different than being in a room attached to a milking machine. I have special time with him, he instantly calms down if upset and he is a much better pump than my Medela.

After three days, my supply is almost back to where it was. I know now that because of my hypoplastic breasts and my PCOS, I would never be able to nurse any child exclusively. I have to learn to accept this.

Still, it's a loss to me; it's my body betraying me yet again. It's something beyond my control and yet I still feel like I'm failing.

I'm angry at my breasts. I'm angry at my ovaries. I'm angry at my body.

They're depriving me of an experience I so desperately wanted. They're depriving my son of his mother's milk.

Today while lamenting in tears to my husband these very thoughts, he told me "Your body hasn't failed you. It has given us two beautiful healthy babies."

Indeed it has.