Reunited!

As I sit down to write this post, I am truly a woman at peace. The house is very still, as it always is during the early hours of morning, but it no longer feels as if the silence is deafening and oppressing; it is a contented sort of peaceful quiet that I can truly enjoy once more because all is well and it feels as if my world is complete once more.

S came home to me last night.

It seemed as if he had been gone forever, and by the time I heard his car pull into our driveway around 10:50 p.m., I was as lighthearted and excited as I'd been on our very first date 16 years ago, because, you see, I had something very important to share with him.

As difficult as the long week was, I think the final three hours leading to his imminent arrival were far worse; he was so very close, but still quite far. I did a lot of pacing and clock-watching during those last 180 minutes, and every time my phone chimed, alerting me that he had texted an arrival time update, my heart soared.

Are you there, baby? I'm two hours out. Love you!

Missing you like crazy. I'm about an hour from home. 

Less than 30 minutes now. I can't wait to nurse. Love you.

Neither of us are strangers to homecomings, and I wanted this one to be just as special and meaningful as the ones we've shared in the past. I had prepared myself as meticulously as I had on that first evening so long ago, and made our nursing space warm and inviting with lit candles and lamplight.

And I had placed the small wine-colored velvet pillow, what we call S' nursing pillow, in its proper place, among my reclining pillows, on our bed.

Just before 11:00, headlights washed through the window, and I heard the familiar purring of his car as it came to a smooth stop in front of our home. The engine stopped. Everything went dark. And my heart began to race.

I never thought he would make it inside!

He didn't need his key last night because I was waiting at the door to let him in.

He was beautiful!

There were several long moments of exchanging tight embraces and long kisses and sweet endearments, and he did what he has done for many years, the one thing that makes me feel beautiful and adored and treasured.

He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes, as if memorizing what he saw in them.

"I missed this face," he said. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I replied. "More than anything. I'm so glad you're home."

From there, things grew a bit flirtatious; I asked him how he liked my new blouse, and I took him by the hand, and said, "Come with me. I want to show you something."

He was more than willing to follow me to the bedroom.

My body blossomed in S' absence, and I wanted to share the complete transformation with him, so we began our beautiful nursing session by looking at the photos I had taken throughout the week, and as I stroked his hair and he rubbed my back, I asked him to describe the changes he noticed, and each time he did, I reminded him that I was doing this for him. 

Always and only for him.

I took his hands, those strong, work-roughened hands that handle my flesh with such gentle reverence, and led them to my breasts so he could explore  that clothed swell, gauging their firmness, their fullness, with his  fingertips before cupping them and supporting the weight of them in his palms. I covered his hands with mine, and felt the trembling flex of his fingers as they plied and pressed against my bosom.

We were both flushed. Our hearts were  pounding in time, and when S was finally able to find his voice, his words were soft, hushed.

"They're so heavy."

"They're full," I replied. "They're full of the milk I made for you. And now they need to be emptied so you can be filled."

Our bed was waiting, warm and inviting, and he came to me, very much like a man who had been starving, and I eagerly gave him the one thing that would sate his desire.

That first latch was amazing.

Last night I was able to feed my husband's physical and emotional hunger from the breasts that had prepared such a feast over the course of one week.

It was glorious!

And when he had fed from each breast and had been lavished with caresses and kisses  and whispered words of love throughout the entirety of our nursing session, he allowed his mouth to slip from my breast, and he thanked me  for what I had given him.

But the pleasure was mine.

To be the woman who is blessed to nurture and nourish this gracious and loving man is a gift beyond compare.

He completes me.

Without S, I am only half of a person.

When he had nursed, I allowed him to drift off to sleep, and it was beautiful to lie next to him, feeling his warmth, his strong presence, and listen to the slow and steady rhythm of his breathing. A physical joining will come soon, and it will be wonderful, but last night, we shared an emotional and spiritual joining that connected our hearts and fulfilled us in a way that even lovemaking cannot.

Everyone is beginning to stir. The house will soon be as full as my heart is right now.

The children will be eager to see their father, and I will be forced to share him with three little people who have missed his presence and affection. We will take on our roles as parents once more because Dad is home, and our family is complete.

But, just as it was last night, tonight will belong only to us.

And it will be magical!

I Have Returned!

After a brief hiatus, I have returned! To those who have sent messages, asking about me, and wondering if I will be updating my blog, thank you for your concern. I am doing well, and plan to continue posting as the days go by. Unfortunately, I am a day behind on some of my features, including the Nursing Diary and Interviews, and they will be updated tomorrow! Thank you for your patience and interest.

I had an incredibly busy weekend; so busy, as a matter of fact, that there didn't seem to be enough hours in the days to get everything accomplished. As I began to feel slightly overwhelmed, I decided to prioritize, and set my writing aside in lieu of spending time with my husband, children, and other family members while keeping in touch with friends via email. It was the right decision, because amid all of the hustle and bustle, I had many moments of reflection.

It's very difficult to choose what to post...and what not to post at times, as I always consider very carefully what you might enjoy reading before I sit down to complete my daily blog posts. I spent a great deal of time considering this post, as a matter of fact, and after talking everything over with S, he encouraged me to write this, and I can only hope that I can explain my position succinctly and without offense.

When I first began writing this blog, I chose to do so with a frank honesty that allowed me a liberating freedom; I was so incredibly filled with joy because of the re-opening of my ANR with S that I truly couldn't refrain from sharing it with the world. I want others to understand the complete bliss that can be gained from sharing the nursing experience with the person you love most in this world. I wanted to share the aspects of our relationship openly, in an attempt to show my readers what my experiences have taught me about myself and my husband. I also wanted people to feel comfortable enough to ask questions about the nursing relationship, as well as about S and me, and who we are as both individuals and a happily married couple. I also wanted to be the shoulder for those struggling to achieve a committed ANR to lean on, as something of a support system, as someone who could understand their hopes and desires, while listening without question or judgment. And I still wish for all of these things.

However, over the weekend, a couple of people chose to overstep their bounds with me, and caused me to re-evaluate many things, including this site and my original blog. If my posts have somehow given you the wrong impression, then I am sorry. Because I share s0 much of my personal journey to the public, I am sure that I seem to be an extremely forward and liberated person who would enjoy blatant sexual advances, presumptuous emails, and disrespectful behavior that bordered on somewhat threatening. That is not who I am.  As surprising as some might find this, I am a very private and shy person; I am an introvert who prefers to stand on the sidelines rather than be the center of attention. When I allow people to truly know me, they are given much more than the surface LMM. I share important details of my life with them; they know what S and I (and our children) look like; they know our names and the very real details of our life as the very average couple we are. They are interested in much more than our nursing life; they want to scratch that LMM surface and get to know me--just as much as I want to know them. If we are nursing friends, a phrase that one of my own friends so perfectly coined, then, of course, we discuss nursing, but we discuss other important aspects of our lives, too, and it's a beautiful thing!

For a while over the weekend, I considered--briefly--the notion of removing my site and blog, but the idea of really doing that made me so sad. I love this so much, and I don't want to stop. And, as long as you would like to continue reading it, I will continue writing it with the same joyful abandon as before. I also debated on whether to make this a password protected site, but the idea seemed so wrong. I want readers to have easy access to my posts without having to worry about the hassle of requesting a password. So...things will remain unchanged for now.

The Bountiful Fruits Chat Room was intended for visitors' personal enjoyment, no strings attached. When the Mister and I arranged for chat sessions with interested people, we intended to use that hour of time to share personal relationship insight with others and offer Nursing Couple Q and A sessions. Unfortunately, a very few people felt that they could use that hour to share their fantasies of me and make unreasonable requests of me. I do not engage in fantasy role play with strangers. I do not indulge in cyber sex. I am not interested in your descriptions of what you dream that my breasts look like. These are things that make me extremely uncomfortable; because of this, I will no longer be utilizing the chat feature, although others may feel free to do so. If anyone is interested in a fun and pleasant relationship Q and A chat, I will arrange a private chat room for us, but for now, all public chat room sessions are canceled until further notice.

Thank you so much to those of you who enjoy Bountiful Fruits and respect me as a very real person. I deeply appreciate it, and love hearing from you! Many thanks to those who continue to offer kindness and support, and encourage me to continue to write.

I'll be back tomorrow with updates and a brand new post!

I hope you'll be here, too!

Taking Offense and Finding Humor Within ANR

Because it has been a hectic week and we are preparing for S' departure, which means attempting to fit in as much together-and-family time as we possibly can before he leaves, I had previously planned a few different things for my TGIFriday post, but a message that I received this morning really caused me to reflect on some things, and led me to write this article.

Although S and I have practiced the ANR lifestyle throughout the course of our marriage, I didn't understand that there were others--many others--who enjoyed the experience, too, and after wondering for a very long time if we were "normal", that way of thinking led me to do a lot of soul (and Internet) searching about six years ago. I found a limited amount of information on ANR, but a lot of what I discovered viewed the lifestyle questioningly, negatively, or in a light of fetishism, so I closed the computer, and gave it very little more thought until we re-opened our dedicated ANR, incorporating lactation into it, in March.

It was then that I decided I wanted to meet other ANR couples and people who shared our ideals regarding the lifestyle. By the time I made the decision to seek out others, I had already begun blogging about my personal journey, and was shocked to find that visitors were actually reading my posts--and enjoying them! It was a humbling and amazing experience, and because of the support and encouragement, I continued to write with a liberating freedom and a lot of joy.

While doing some research online, I happened upon a website dedicated entirely to the Adult Nursing Relationship; I won't mention the specific website, but it was there that I began to meet some truly wonderful people, and there that I learned even more about this lifestyle. Although we don't all view ANR in the same way (and why should we? After all, it's a very private journey, and our reasons for embarking upon it are uniquely exclusive to each of us), I found that we all share a very basic desire: the need to nurse. I have formed friendships with many of these people, and many of them now follow my blog, come to this site, and leave beautiful private messages for me. (If you are one of those people, then I am sure you know which website I'm referring to.)

One of the reasons I was drawn to this particular website was its very basic, no-frills appearance; it is not overrun with images, and there are guidelines on what is considered appropriate--and what is not. I appreciate and respect that. This site offers many features to its visitors, including discussion boards, a forum, live chat, and a message center where members can communicate with one another. I also found it very interesting that this site offers free space for personal blogging. Because I became so busy with my own blog, I found that I wasn't able to frequent the site very often; I participated in a few discussions, shared some of my thoughts, and occasionally enjoyed utilizing my personal blogging area. Readers' responses were very supportive, and so kind and uplifting. Because of this, I posted a blog on the site earlier in the week.

And that's where I inadvertently made a mistake. 

Uh-oh. I used the "B" word.

I did. I used the word boobs.

And it seems that I have overstepped my bounds.

Apparently, I am a rebellious guideline-breaker who must now bear the branding of the dreaded Scarlet B upon my blouse for the ANR world to see. ;)

One of the site moderators actually contacted me about the error of my ways, and after a bit of consideration, I sent a return message to her, politely, but firmly, defending my position.

The offensive post ( a simple copy and paste of Boob Chat: Part II) was my most popular one. Readers left messages that read:

• I love it!
• Thank you for brightening my day!
• Hilarious!!
• You have an agile mind and you can WRITE! I look forward to reading more of your posts.

and appreciated the tongue-in-cheek humor of it, while generously commiserating with the struggle of being a big-breasted girl, and adding their own humorous anecdotes in the comment section. Some who didn't feel comfortable enough to publicly comment left me private messages.

It's so odd to me that the blog post that received the most positive responses from readers is the one that the site's mod found the most inappropriate--and took upon herself to delete.

I get asked a lot of questions, and one of the most common is: Do Christians judge you and leave rude messages for you, telling you that your lifestyle is wrong?

No. They do not. I have spoken to many Christians since I began blogging about my lifestyle choice, and their response has been overwhelmingly encouraging.

It's ironic, isn't it, that I managed to offend the moderator of a website that caters specifically to ANR and breasts simply by using one euphemism on a personal blog, but have yet to offend the sensibilities of many who do not participate in such a lifestyle.

Although I take my own ANR very seriously, and respect others' lifestyle choices as well, I am still able to find the humor in it. And there really is humor in all aspects of life and relationships, including the adult nursing one. Believe me on this, I know! Trust me, there is nothing funnier than almost suffocating your husband during a soothing nursing session. This actually happened, thanks to my boobs breasts. S and I shared so much laughter that night--it truly enhanced the feeding experience; we felt so giddy and light-hearted. (It's a really funny story, and I think I'll turn it into a blog post! :))

Not everything is meant to be offensive--and not everything should be construed as such.

And this includes using the words boobs, knockers, and jugs in reference to the female breasts.

I am a female. I am also a fierce advocate of positive body image. Women are fabulous beings--and all breasts are exquisite, regardless of shape, size, or how you refer to them. Sometimes, euphemisms aren't meant as derogatory; sometimes, they are used as mere alternatives. I discuss "breasts" every day, and I'm afraid there are only so many times that I can type that word without sounding repetitive, so...I sometimes use alternatives. Sometimes, euphemisms are even cute. Breast Chat just doesn't have the same ring to it as Boob Chat.

I could have ignored this entire topic and conveniently swept it under the proverbial rug, but I chose not to. Staunch stoicism is sometimes necessary, of course, but humor is important, too, and laughter is vital--it's what keeps many of us going throughout the day.

After exchanging messages with the mod earlier today, I'm not sure that I will be a welcome addition on that site any more; as a matter of fact, I might have been banned. I don't know because I haven't bothered to check. I'm okay with an account deletion anyway, because I honestly realize that although I am a member of the ANR community--and proud of it--that site and I aren't a very good fit for one another. It's much too stifling for someone like me. :)

Regardless, I know that I am always welcome here.

And so are you!

Happy Friday!

Separation Anxiety and ANR

S is leaving.

I knew this day was coming. I've known for quite some time now, and I've been able to put his departure out of my mind and focus on everything that is wonderful. But now that the time is drawing near, it is all that I can seem to think about.

We've been apart before in the past, often and for very long, difficult periods of time, under much worse circumstances. You would think I would be used to it by now, wouldn't you?

But I'm not.

I hate it when he goes away.

I know that it won't be forever. He'll be home again in a week. And what's a week, really, when you think about it?

Seven days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. 604,800 seconds. 1/4 of a month.

It will seem like an eternity to me.

When he is away from me, the house seems so empty and our bed feels so lonely. At night I sleep on his pillow, and it brings him closer to me, but it's never enough to really satisfy me, because I miss feeling his chest pressed warmly against my back and his arm curled protectively around my waist as we spoon through the night. Every night that we have been together, we have slept that way for almost 15 years (unless a little one has had a bad dream or was frightened awake by a thunderstorm, and feels comfortable enough to snuggle down between Dad and Mama in their big, warm, cozy bed with the piles of soft pillows and fluffy queen-sized blanket), and I've grown very accustomed to his night-time presence.

Perhaps even too accustomed to it.

When S leaves, it always feels that he takes half of me with him. And I never truly feel whole again until he walks back through the door, filling our home--and my world--with his strength and security.

I miss watching him shave in the morning and sharing coffee with him at the breakfast table. I miss listening to him read a bedtime story to our daughter and telling our sons good-night. I miss his voice, the way his laugh fills an entire room when he's really amused by something. I miss him.

I am already beginning to feel the on-set of separation anxiety--and it's horrible.

But I think it's one of the realities that you have to face when you are in a committed ANR. You invest so much of yourself in another person that it's difficult to let them go--even for a little while. And the challenge of separation doesn't just stem from the act of nursing, but from the emotional drawing and pulling that comes along with nursing. Even if it is temporary, that connection is hard to break.

And, now, even more so because I am lactating.

I have reached a level in my lactation journey that I am very comfortable with right now. Although I plan to continue on to full lactation in the future, a goal that S and I have been working together to accomplish, I am satisfied--and thrilled--with what my breasts have achieved in just one short month. My milk supply has come in beautifully, and continues to increase, replenishing itself quickly after each feeding, but I remain at the place where I need S to draw it from my breasts, as I haven't yet reached the point of being able to express through pumping. This is another concern: I don't want to suffer from engorgement, and I certainly don't want to drop to a lower level of lactation.
S and I have spent many hours discussing our situation, and he was open enough to tell me how difficult the separation is going to be for him, too, while also showing so much support and encouragement regarding my milk dilemma. (It's so wonderful to have a supportive partner who reminds me every day that he is not nursing from my breasts for the milk, but for the intimacy and deep connection we share; even though I understand completely that he will dry nurse just as contentedly as he is feeding now, I have grown very, very fond of my milk, and I know that he has, too, and I honestly do not want to see a decrease in supply.)

After weighing and considering our options, and deciding that, as the end of the school year grows closer, it just wouldn't be practical for me to join him out-of-state, I have chosen to pump in his absence, to provide as much breast stimulation as possible. By pumping during each regularly scheduled nursing time, and possibly a couple of times in between, if time permits, I hope to maintain my milk supply, which, of course, is why I have been on a proper breastpump search and find mission over the past two weeks. :) The Mister and I are going breastpump shopping on Friday evening, as a matter of fact, which he ought to find a lot more interesting than shoe shopping, which I have been known to do on the rare occasion.

Now that I've had time to truly think about our situation, I'm sure that everything will be okay. Things often have a way of turning out better than you think they will. I am confident in the abilities of my body--and my breasts--and secure in knowing that even if my milk supply is hindered by this impending week-long separation, I have a loving man who will be eager to return to the shelter of my arms and the comfort of my bosom.

But I'm still going to miss him...

Why I Love Mr. S: Reason #128

Saturday was extremely eventful! Along with our weekly date, I had my very first ever podcast interview! Wow!

Believe it or not, I am something of an introvert. (I know, shocking, right? :)) I always seem to have a lot to say, but I just find it a lot easier to express it through the written word rather than the spoken word, so giving an interview was a bit nerve-wracking!

My love knew how challenging it was going to be, so he took extra good care of me! This TLC included a back rub, lots of kisses, and many, many words of support and encouragement. He also took the children out for the afternoon to ensure that I had plenty of peace and quiet during my Skype session.

It really is the little things that mean so much!

So, how did it all go?

Pretty well...I think. I actually found my voice, remembered how to speak, and didn't suffer from too much tongue-tied-itis...so, I'm happy!

And the romantic evening that followed was magical!

I hope you are enjoying your Sunday  and that your weekend has been wonderful.

I'll be back tomorrow with new questions (and answers) on my advice page as well as a brand new ANR interview, and new posts will follow throughout the week.

Happy Sunday!

Date Night with the Mister!

I love to date my husband, and have come to anticipate our Saturdays when we will have long intimate moments that belong only to us. There is unspoken passion as we exchange eager glances across the breakfast table as the children scamper underfoot, a deep desire that must remain bridled until we're alone. There is something so exciting and intriguing about the careful preparations I will make to ensure that I turn his head and catch his eye.

I feel giddy.

Our personal ANR has helped to spark such deep passion and rekindle the fire of romance...we are closer physically and emotionally than either of us could have believed possible. It's so beautiful to fall in love...especially when you're falling in love with your spouse! ❤️

I have many articles (and maybe even a few surprises) planned for the upcoming week, so I hope you'll visit again.

Until then, stay happy! And enjoy your weekend!

Missed our Morning Feeding

S and I have been able to incorporate morning nursing sessions (along with our nightly nursing) into our daily life, and the feedings have been a wonderful way to start our day. Both of us feel relaxed and rejuvenated and ready to face the challenges of work and motherhood. It has become routine that when the alarm goes off, I roll over in our comfy, sleep-warm bed and find him waiting for what he teasingly calls "pre-breakfast".

Until this morning.

Our alarm did not go off. Which meant he overslept. Which meant he was going to be late for work. Which meant he missed his morning feeding.

Uh-oh.

The Adult Nursing Relationship is a beautifully complex thing; once you have begun a scheduled nursing routine, it is incredibly difficult (both emotionally and physically) when a feeding is missed. Now that I am in the process of re-lactating, I have reached the stage in the process where I become uncomfortable if I am not able to nurse. I actually NEED it.

My breasts are protesting.

I have experienced the familiar tingling prickles of the let-down reflex and the fullness that tells me that my breasts "need" to be emptied.

Manual expression it is...until tonight.

I think the emotional need is even greater. For both of us.

S just left me a text message that read:

Missing you and our time together this morning

So I know that his need to be nursed is as strong as my need to be nursed FROM.

My advice to women who are involved in a loving ANR where feedings are carefully planned and scheduled?

Do NOT miss a feeding (unless absolutely necessary). Stay committed to your routine and focused on your feeding schedule.

Your boobs will thank you for it!