My oldest son was born at 33 weeks, 4 days gestation. My water broke in the middle of the night and we found ourselves in a state of shock when the OB on call informed us our baby was coming. It wasn't 24 hours before that, I was yelling at my hubby, in a panic to get the nursery together. I thought I had just begun nesting, but maybe I subconsciously knew we were going to meet our baby. Regardless, we were in shock, unprepared and didn't even have a car seat.

My son was born in an event-free, smooth labour, weighing 5lbs 2oz. A "good size" for his gestation. He spent 2 and a half weeks in the NICU and one of the nurses suggested donor milk until mine "came in". He received donor milk and a few days after his birth, I remember crying to the nurses, as I didn't think my milk had "come in". I had always heard stories of people waking up soaked in the middle of the night when their milk "came in", so I was waiting for this moment. She just laughed at me and said, "I don't know what you're talking about, you have a litre in the freezer here. If anything, you should consider donating." After 2 weeks of watching our son grow and develop every day we finally took him home. He is now a spirited 3 year old and we are still astonished at how much he grows and learns on a daily basis.

It wasn't until I was pregnant with my second little guy that I knew I wanted to donate. I had friends who wanted to breastfeed, but couldn't. I knew other mamas whose babies were in the NICU and thrived on donor milk. I thought if I was lucky enough to have an ample supply, why wouldn't I share a little liquid gold?

Needless to say, this time I had some to spare and made a conscious effort to pump regularly to make my donation. I can't say it was easy with a toddler running around, but I do think it was worth it.