My Cups Runneth Over

My breasts are heavy, they are bigger and ache and feel 'full' again. I am supposed to start pumping and popping milk-pills soon, in order to be ready for an upcoming show, but haven't started yet... I wonder what is provoking these changes? I have found myself in a few discussions around mothers and maternity lately, be it in relation to my own desires and options (or not) for pregnancy and parenting, the influence (or not) of our mothers on our personalities and peculiarities. Are my breasts responding to a desire to nurture?

And if so, who do they want to nurture? A past girlfriend of mine was adopted, and when I let her suckle from me it was often a somehow bittersweet experience, an attempt on both our parts to make up for some lack (not so much physical as emotional as a bonding and comforting. The kiss on a grazed knee, the skirts to hide behind). And a recent playmate provoked a similar inkling in me, an urge to compensate for past losses (mine to mother, zirs to be mothered). But then, with so much death and diseases around me of late, perhaps the desire is less specifically linked to an individual and more to provide solace and sustenance to my whole community? Or myself?

Whatever the cause, the response is quite intense. It HURTS. My shirtbuttons are straining to hold back my milky tides, I am getting the surging pains that signify that first wave of letdown as I type this. And the tears too are swelling up, my dams are all threatening to burst...