Day 85: The day I tried breast milk… and wished I hadn’t.

I would like to say that I chose today’s experience in honor of my friend’s birthday. Breanne wrote her college thesis on breast milk and childhood obesity and now whenever I think of breast milk, I think of Breanne and all the amazing facts she taught me about it. Breanne, happy 23rd birthday! You said you hoped I had a good thing planned for today, and well, here it is… I love you and I hope this makes your day extra special! (I think I just opened a can of worms- three of my sisters didn’t get any special birthday posts… )

So I was fortunate enough to have a friend who was willing to give me some of her breast milk she had in the freezer, originally for her child. And if you were wondering, no, I do not feel any shame for taking milk from a child :) My plan was to try a bit of it straight up and then use some in making vanilla pudding to see if you could notice a difference. Breast milk looks normal enough and my family and friends who have tried it (most of them being moms) say that it is a bit sweet.

Ready to take on the milk!

I poured out a cup for the pudding and then poured myself a small amount (although when it came time to drink it, the amount didn’t look small at all). You have no idea how reluctant I was to drink this. Actually, you probably do have a good idea, I take that back. I was hoping it would just taste different. Not bad, just different. I picked up the glass and, after a short pep talk, raised it to my mouth and…  chickened out. I just couldn’t do it! It’s like when you go to jump off something really high and you start running but stop short right at the edge, your insides telling you to take the plunge, but your outsides keeping you ‘safe’ at the top. I was looking at my hand and mentally saying, “come on, hand, just raise the glass and drink.” But I just couldn’t. I realized that it wasn’t the taste I was worried about at all, but the history of where the milk came. My friend’s body. I wasn’t sure if it was better that I knew the person it came from or not, but it also didn’t help that I had seen it frozen in a breast milk bag and then thawed out. My cold feet took a few more minutes to warm up and finally I closed my eyes, lifted the glass and swallowed its contents as quickly as I could, in one gulp. It took a second before it hit me. ‘It’ being the most awful after-taste I have ever tasted! IT WAS DISGUSTING!! CAN’T BREATH… I CAN’T BREATH! I seriously started running around the kitchen with my mouth open trying not to swallow or move my tongue, lest I be subjected to that awful taste again. I ran for the glass cabinet, grabbed the first one I saw and ran to the sink. I took two big gulps of water, but it wasn’t working!! I wanted to throw up but settled for gargling. Nope, still there. WHAT THE HECK, THIS TASTE ISN’T GOING AWAY! I threw open the fridge and grabbed the real milk, filling my glass. Finally, with my throat coated in what seemed to be the best milk in the world (Giant-brand skim), my taste buds awoke from their nightmare and I could breath again.

I grabbed my phone and called up my ‘friend’ to tell her that she seriously must have given me bad milk. “Really?” she said (oh please, yes, really!). “What did it taste like?”

After describing the world’s most awful taste (metal, badness, paper, nastiness, metal, gross gross gross), she replied innocently, “Oh, it was probably freezer-burned.”

WHAT? You just subjected me to drinking freezer-burned breast milk? As if the ‘breast’ part wasn’t bad enough, you had to pull out the stuff from the back of the freezer?? UUUGGHHHHH

It’s unfortunate that I had such an bad experience, seeing as how I hear that it really doesn’t taste bad… when it isn’t old. I will never be trying that again. Those poor babies. ATTENTION ALL MOTHERS: don’t over-freeze your baby’s milk!

I was now dreading making the vanilla pudding. While it was cooking on the stove, the steam rising from it held the smell of the exact taste I was trying to forever run from. Weirdly, the pudding never thickened into pudding. I wonder if this is because breast milk has something different in it than cow’s milk or if it doesn’t have something. Interesting. This was a very favorable turn out, because it got me out of trying breast milk pudding. And anyways, my stomach didn’t feel so good for the 10 minutes following ‘the worst moment of my life’.

Breanne, dear, I love you, but you owe me big.

Explore posts in the same categories: Cooking/ Food

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