My husband changed Baby Abigail's diaper last night and started cooing "She doesn't have skinny bird legs anymore! Look at the heft coming into these thighs! Good job, Mom!"
"Oh," I signed dejectedly. "You know I'm not very good at breastfeeding. Things didn't go well with us today."
"Get over here," he said. "Take a look at our girl's new double chin. This is all thanks to you!"
My husband is my biggest breastfeeding supporter. He's calm during any feeding crisis. He's appreciative when things are going well. He's my cheerleader.
It's funny. Breastfeeding seems to be something totally exclusive of men--a mother/baby dance from the beginning of time. Yet I know personally, I would not have persevered in learning how to nurse each of my five child without the warm support of my husband.
Lets hear it for the Dads!