Yes, my book is about breastfeeding other people’s children. And no, before you ask, it’s not an autobiography. So how did I come up with the idea?
It all comes down to Colin.
Colin is my son, now four years old. In 2012, he was two, and still breastfeeding. I’ll go into more details about that journey in a future post, but one night before putting him to bed, latching him for the eleventy billionth time and absently humming “Yellow Submarine,” I began thinking about just how many times I’d breastfed my child. For close to a thousand days, multiple times per day, we’d had those tender moments of quiet, rest and fulfillment. Thousands of moments filled with snuggles, sleepy smiles and the ever-growing bond between my little guy and me.
Then, I started to think about how much that could be worth. And I realized that if I had a dollar for every one of those feeding sessions, I’d be swimming in a pool of money like my name was Scrooge McDuck.
(Sure, I can be sentimental but damn if I’m not a pragmatist.)
I then started to think about what it would be like to make money by breastfeeding the babies of other people (ok, rich people), and what the implications would be. What kind of issues one could run into, and what kind of emotional rewards and challenges could exist. What kind of person one would have to be in order to work in this profession–in this day and age–and do it well.
I unhooked Colin, who was on his way to dreamland, placed him bed, and kissed him goodnight.
That very night, I started my outline.
More on the next steps I took, coming soon!