Even though I joke about psychologically pregnant, I know my experience pales in comparison to that of my wife. From the months of personal connection to the actual physical delivery, I will never be able to fully appreictae that typer of relationship with any of my children. However, those personal connections do relate to the process of breastfeeding. I know I am blessed to have such an amazing wife who sacrificed so much time, sleep, and sanity to nourish our daughter in the most critical months of development. I obviously don't have the parts needed for actual breastfeeding, but I can say I at least lived a small percentage of the process. Those first few weeks were very zombie-like, catching any winks of sleep possible between feedings and changings. It was a cycle. Feed. Change. Sleep. Repeat. I remember being exhauted. Because of that exhaustion, I remember the feeling of guilt that encompassed me as I realized the physical toll was so minimal compared to that of my wife. I felt some mental relief when I was able to bottle-feed my daughter and give Mom somewhat of a break. It just wasn't the sa.me. Women are definitely the better half.