Milk Money

MILK MONEY

My name is Tim Young. I have been married to the love of my life, Kelly, for five years. I am thirty-one and she is twenty-seven. We decided it was time to start our family, and Kelly got pregnant quickly.

Everything was normal until we went to the hospital to have the baby. The delivery had unexpected complications because the baby had problems not anticipated. The delivery was difficult. The baby survived the delivery but had many problems. The delivery was so intense that by the time the baby was delivered, Kelly was injured to the point where she would no longer be able to have more children.

The baby struggled to survive for three days. Kelly barely had an opportunity to have the baby suckle on her breast before it became too weak to continue.

After three days, the baby passed away. We were devastated, especially Kelly. She knew she would not be able to have any more children, and now, the only one she would ever have had died.

It took several more days for Kelly to be strong enough to go home from the hospital. During that time, the hospital had counselors, both secular and religious, visit her and try to ease her pain. She wasn't interested in any of them. She only wanted her husband by her side and preferred everyone else leave us alone in our time of grief.

My parents and her mother were waiting for us at home, and the next several days were very hard for everyone.

The first night in our own bed, Kelly cried it all out. I had no answers and just held her. She cried most of the night.

The next morning, as Kelly was getting up, she saw that her nightgown was wet down the front. Her breasts had leaked.

I helped her take it off and get into the shower. When she returned, she sat on the bed. I could tell she wanted to say something, so I waited her out.

Finally, "Tim, I need to say something that is going to sound crazy, but I need you to support me in this, okay?"

"Honey, you know I will do anything I can to help you." I hugged her and waited for her to tell me what this thing was.

She finally looked up at me. "When I got up this morning and my breasts had leaked, I was surprised. I guess my body was still waiting for our baby to take it from me. While I was in the shower, I squeezed one of my nipples and milk came out. It felt good. I was doing what Mother Nature had given me tits for. That is their purpose. I then realized no baby would suckle on my breasts ever again and I lost it. I sat down in the shower and cried. While sitting there in the shower, I began squeezing both my breasts and the milk flowed. It was slow, but I was able to have a small puddle on the floor."

She stopped and looked up at me. "Tim, I know it is crazy, but that milk is the last thing I have that connects me with our baby. I know it will stop flowing any day now. I'm not ready to give it up yet. I want you to use the pump to collect my milk. I know it sounds crazy, and I know it won't last long, but I'm not ready to completely close the chapter on our baby just yet. Can you do that for me?"

DAMN, that was the last thing I'd ever have guessed. But, as I sat and looked into those sad blue eyes, I knew I couldn't say no. "If that is what you need, that is what I'll do."

She jumped up, sat on my lap, and hugged me hard. "I love you; I love you; I love you. Just for a while, okay? Just until I can close that chapter."

The nurse at her OBYGN's office had helped us select the proper electric pump. We got the manual out to see our options during pumping. We discovered there were several positions and different methods. Kelly had practiced beforehand, and had decided the best method to start with was the leaning forward position. She had also bought a breast massager because the nurse told her it had helped her get the most milk and to relieve the pain.

Kelly took her robe off and sat on our desk chair in our bedroom. I gave her the electric pump and got it ready. It had been fitted beforehand and went over her areola and nipple perfectly. Before she started, I asked her to wait a second and leaned down. I put her nipple in my mouth and tried sucking a little milk out of her. When I did that, she closed her eyes and leaned back.

It took me a couple of minutes to get the milk flowing, but when it did, I locked my lips over her breast and began sucking on it. The milk slowly but steadily flowed into my mouth. I looked at her and she was in a different world. Her eyes were glassy, and she had an angelic look on her face. It surprised me enough to make me let go. She opened her eyes and smiled at me. "I loved you sucking on my breast. The milk flowing made me feel like a mother again. I just wish you could drain me yourself, but I need to see the milk gather." That was the first time she had smiled since the baby died.

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. She could taste her milk on my lips, so she licked her lips and smiled again. If this helps give her closure, I will do it until she is able to stop.

We were ready. She leaned forward and put the pump over one of her breasts. I turned it on, and it clamped down on her. She jumped when it latched onto her and didn't let go. It didn't take as long as me to produce milk. A small but steady stream dripped into the container. The book says it should take ten to fifteen minutes to pull most of the milk out of each breast. That would mean 30 minutes every morning and again whenever she felt like they were ready again.

It didn't take long for Kelly's face to show pain as the pump continued. She finally stopped after ten minutes. She probably hadn't got everything out, but it was a symbolic thing anyway, so I didn't care. I just wanted her to feel like she was fulfilling her role in Mother Nature's plan. For the second breast, I put the massager on the breast as Kelly pumped it. I hoped that it would ease the pain somewhat.

Kelly was able to last fifteen minutes with the aid of the massager. By the time she stopped, the container had maybe a pint of breast milk.

While she was holding it in her hand and swirling it around, I was putting a salve over her areolas and nipples and massaging them softly. Kelly looked into my eyes, and I could see a faraway look in them. She was staring at me but not seeing me.

I led her to the bed and helped her lay down on her back. I headed for the kitchen to put the milk into the fridge while she stared at the ceiling.

When I returned, she was back from wherever she had gone during the pumping and reached for my hand. "My love, thank you so much for that. It was almost a religious experience. Deep within me I felt like I was fulfilling my purpose in life, helping a small baby get a start on life."

I didn't want to interrupt this wonderful story to remind her we had no idea what to do with the milk. If she continued doing this for several days until she dried up, we would easily have at least half a gallon and no idea what to do with it. "Sweetie, are you okay if I go to work? I haven't been there for several days, and I have a lot of paperwork."

Kelly took his hand. "Tim, I'll be okay. I'm just going to relax for the day. My mother might show up. I'll be fine."

I kissed her and headed to work. Once there, I called the nurse that had helped us before with breastfeeding to ask about the milk.

"Mr. Young, it's okay if she wants to do this for a few days. It might help her settle her hurt."

"What do I do with the milk? Is there someone that can use it?"

"Yes. It's called the La Leche League. They have all the answers."

She gave me their number and I called for an appointment.

I was met by Anna Thompson. She introduced herself as the Assistant Manager of our local branch. "Mr. Young, I'm happy to meet you. I understand your wife has some milk she might like to give to us."

"Yes, Ms. Thompson. I don't know how much or how long, but I don't want to just throw it away." I then explained my wife's situation. When I finished, she sat quietly for a few minutes.

"So, she hopes by giving her milk to other mothers she will assuage her grief or guilt?"

"In a nutshell, I believe that is correct."

"Okay. We can take it. You will need to bring her in so we can test her milk. If she passes the test, she will be licensed as a milk provider for us."

We agreed on her coming on the next day and I went home to explain it to Kelly. She was excited to be "licensed" as a milk provider and we were there early the next day.

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Young. We would be honored to accept your donation to help other mothers. We just need to be able to certify your milk first. If you come with me, we will do that now."

I waited while they went into the back. I looked around while I waited. They were in a strip mall and had classrooms and meeting rooms. I read their brochures. They offered lessons to new mothers and had volunteers that would help them. They offered products and materials to assist them. It made sense. Most women would only breastfeed their babies once or twice in their lives and would need assistance to begin. They do a good job.

Twenty minutes later, she had expressed enough milk for them to test it and she passed.

Kelly came out front. She was very excited. "They say my milk is great. They will take all I can give them."

I was relieved to see her excited about anything and kissed her. "I never had a doubt, my love. You're wonderful."

She blushed and Ms. Thompson told me the procedure for bringing in her milk. We went to lunch before going home. Kelly was happy. It looked good to me.

By the time we got home it was mid-afternoon. Kelly headed into the kitchen as she was removing her top. By the time she was seated, her bra was off, and she had her pump in her hand. "Help me. I want to empty these breasts. I can feel them. It's probably in my head, but I need to pump now."

I wasn't arguing with her. She was determined. I got the pump and the container for her and when she was ready, I turned it on.

This was only her third day, but she filled the container. We now had nearly half a gallon of milk in just five sessions.

After she finished, she went upstairs to rest.

Over the next week, I took three gallons of milk to Ms. Thompson. I originally used a plastic jug, but they gave me glass bottles to use.

By the middle of the next week, Kelly's output began to fall. By the end of the next week, she had only a small dribble left. It was as if her body knew there was no baby and decided the pumping wasn't worth the pain.

I came home from work that Friday to find her hysterical. I tried to calm her down, but she was inconsolable. "Tim, I'm dry. I don't have any milk now. I need to have milk for the mothers. I can't stop now."

She was so upset that I called her doctor, and she prescribed a sedative. I went to get it and gave it to her.

The next morning, I called Anna Thompson. I was sure hysterical women probably wasn't something they helped with, but I needed SOMEONE. She was there on a Saturday. "Thank you very much for talking to me. I have a problem with Kelly. She is drying up, and she is having a very difficult time with it. I don't know what to do."

"Mr. Young, could you come by this morning? I want to talk to you about this."

"Absolutely. I'm on my way."

Thirty minutes later I was sitting in her office. "Thank you for seeing me, even though I have no idea what you can do for me."

Thompson sat for a minute. It looked like she was trying to make a decision. "Do you believe she really NEEDS to donate milk? Would it make a difference to her health if she stopped producing milk?"

"I've come to the conclusion that it does, yes."

It looked like she had made a decision. She took a card out of her desk. "This man runs a farm where women can come to give their milk for money. He has a way to help Kelly. It can have permanent consequences sometimes. She will have to understand what she is doing. We can't touch him, and I wouldn't ever mention him here if he hadn't helped me at a time in my life when I needed someone. Call him if Kelly is willing to talk about a drastic change in her lifestyle. You can tell him Anna sent you."

"Thanks so much. I'll talk to Kelly about this."

She stood up and shook my hand. "Be careful is all I will say."

I went home to find Kelly asleep. I let her sleep. In the morning, she seemed more rested and calmer. "I'm sorry I sort of lost it last night. I don't know what is wrong with me."

"I just think you're disappointed you can't continue to make milk for the children. It'll be okay. We can move on with our lives. We can do anything we want. We can adopt if you wish."

Kelly looked defeated. "Okay, we can at least think about it."

That was that. At least for a couple of days until I came home, and she was pissed. "Were you ever going to tell me about the farm?"

"I don't think that is a safe option. Ms. Thompson advised against it."

"I called her to thank her for her kindness and she asked what we had decided to do about the farm. I had no idea what she was talking about."

I sat down and let her rage. When she finally settled down, I was able to get a word in. "Ms. Thompson says this is dangerous and could harm your life. I'm not willing to risk your health so you can give milk to strangers."

"How about us deciding something together? I want to know about this place."

"Okay, I'll call him right now." I took Ty Abbot's card out of my wallet and called the number on it. "Mr. Abbot, I was referred to you by Anne and my wife is desperate to continue lactating. Anne says you can give us a way, but we must be careful."

"Anne is a sweetheart, and she is correct. If you wish to bring your wife here, I will show her what this entails. That should take care of it."

"Hold on for a second, please." I put my hand over the phone. "Kelly, do you want to go and see it?" She nodded. "Okay, Mr. Abbot, she wants to see what you have."

We made an appointment for the next morning. We pulled up in front of a nice house in the country. There was a small barn behind it, but everything was nice and quiet. Ty Abbot was waiting for us. "Mr. Young, Mrs. Young, it is nice to meet you."

"Please call me Tim, and this is Kelly. Nice to meet you. Nice farm you have here."

"Thanks, call me Ty. Let's go into the house and I will show Kelly a little of what we do here."

We went into a large room with a couple of desks in what used to be the living room. A couple of women were processing papers into a computer and barely looked up to say hi.

"We keep all our records here. Let's go into my office."

When we were comfortable, Ty started. "Kelly, I understand you are interested in continuing to lactate. Is that correct?"

"Yes, when I lost our baby, the milk was the only thing that soothed my soul. After a while, it didn't hurt and watching the milk filling the container filled me with a joy and peace I haven't had since the baby died. If I can continue to donate my milk and feel like that, I'd be a happy woman."

Ty looked at me and I just raised my hands. He turned back to Kelly. "I need you to understand that the female body isn't designed for permanent lactating. What we must do to accomplish that can be harmful to your mental and physical health. Do you seriously wish to risk that for a feeling that will probably go away over time?"

Kelly wasn't budging. "Maybe you can show us what you have here? Let me see for myself what it entails."

"Okay. Follow me, but you have been warned."

I had to admit, he was scaring me. I could only hope he was able to scare her into forgetting this crazy idea.

He took us out the back door and toward the small barn. He opened the door to the barn to show a small room filled with supplies. There was a half wall that ran around the entire back wall. When we walked up to the wall, we could see a large room that was most of the barn behind it. It had a walkway right behind the wall, but it was what was behind the walkway. Behind the walkway there were four pens. They were about ten feet by ten feet square.

We couldn't see what was in the pens until he took us into the barn. In each pen was a woman, but not a normal looking woman. Kelly gasped as she saw them. Each woman had gigantic breasts that appeared so heavy they couldn't stand up. They were all on hands and knees. Their heads were shaved, and they had a collar around their necks. Each collar had a number and a name on it. There was a large milking machine apparatus hanging down from the back area.

The look on Kelly's face told me we were out of the woods here. There is no way she would accept that lifestyle. No way.

Ty gave her a couple of minutes and then said. "See, Kelly, it is a dangerous change."

"But why would they do that?"

"First of all, it is very profitable for them. We split the money we make 50/50 between us and them. I have an account for each, and their milk is weighed, and they receive into their account half of what we get for it. Most women come here for only a short time, until they have made the money they want. Unfortunately, for these four women, they enjoyed the process so much they kept refusing to leave until they couldn't. Even if we stopped giving them their formula, their breasts are already too large for them to manage on their own. Their families have all given up on them, and we will take care of them until, and if, their minds finally clear. They will eventually dry up and we will then see what state their minds are in."

"You said most just do this for a short time. Do you have anyone we can see that is doing that?"

"You are in luck. We have a woman coming in an hour that is a regular here. She comes every weekend to make her deposit and enjoy the fringe benefits we provide. You can meet her and see for yourself."

He took us back to his office while we waited. During that time, he explained his background.

"I was trying to help Anna with mother's that dearly wanted to breastfeed their babies but was having difficulty producing enough milk."

"During my research, I came across an old medical journal from 100 years ago that talked about a medicine that calmed the insane mind. The only problem they had was an overdose that had very negative consequences. They then discovered medicines that were much easier and safer to use, so this medicine just drifted away. However, they never actually banned it. It took me a while to discover what the substance really was. It took me longer to make something from 100 years ago, but I finally succeeded. I tested it on older sows that had stopped producing milk for their babies. It worked very well. I was ready for my next test, but Anna didn't wait. Carrie had come to us with a problem. She needed to make milk. I told her we weren't ready, but Anna gave her an injection without my knowledge. Carrie was a woman that had no children but wanted to get larger breasts and lactate. She had a fetish, and I never would have indulged her. Anna went behind my back and injected Carrie. She had insisted on larger doses without stopping. Anna finally gave into her and gave her the large injections for two weeks before I realized what she was doing. By then, Carrie had doubled her breast size, and the milk was pouring out of her. We had to develop a means of pumping and storing all that milk. By the time I had discovered what was happening, it was too late. When I took the formula away from Carrie, she became very agitated and dangerous. She was addicted to the formula at that dose. I had to give her the dose large enough to keep her calm. Her breasts kept growing and her milk production soared. Unfortunately for Carrie, after a few months of this, her mind snapped. She was as you see here now. When her mind went, I stopped giving her the real formula and made a sugar pill type to keep her calm. After three months she finally stopped producing milk, but her breasts only reduced about ten percent of the size. She lived here with us until she finally passed away last year."