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Milk, as it turns out, is evil, a mucous-coated pacifier we were meant to discard decades ago. I figured one day (it only took me six years after I went back on coffee) that maybe it’s the MILK I need to quit, not the five cups a day of delicious, acrid, steamy java – maybe what's causing me all that gastric discomfort is lactose intolerance.
How did I discover the problem? What made me think that milk – innocuous staple of everyone's daily diet, the very symbol of health – was the culprit? The girl I was seeing this summer kept human breast milk in her freezer. Not hers, and not for her consumption, but for a friend's adopted baby. You may know this already, but apparently a woman won't lactate if she didn't actually birth the baby, so they get a lactating woman to donate breast milk, and then they need to keep it in a freezer. There's too much for just one freezer, so my now ex-girlfriend donated her entire freezer to it (which meant I couldn't have ice cubes when I came to visit).
Is this too much information for you? No, they wouldn’t let me taste it. I was pissed about that too, and felt weird for the baby -- here this kid is with a woman, not his real mother, nursing him with yet another woman's breast milk (which she feeds the child via a small tube placed next to her nipple) which is kept in yet another woman's freezer. It really does take a huge amount of sleight of hand to be "organic."
