Congratulations to the winners of the Breastfeed.com Best Nursing Story Contest! We received so many wonderful entries, it was as hard for us to choose the winners as it was fun to read the stories. Your enormous participation has inspired us to launch Breastfeeding Stories.com, a daughter site to Breastfeed.com, coming soon. So keep your stories coming and look for them to appear on Breastfeed.com in the future. Read on for the contest winners, and be prepared to laugh and be moved.

The Winning Stories

Grand Prize Winner: They Should Be Falling Off Any Day Now
I fight an ongoing (losing) battle to keep our home as clutter-free as possible. Surrounded by a family of pack-rats, I often find myself pointing to faded crafts, dusty baby toys and various other neglected items and saying, "We haven't used that in a long time. Isn't it time to get rid of it?"

One day, my 4-year-old daughter finally caught the concept. I stepped out of the shower and found her standing inside the bathroom door, watching me emerge. She looked at my naked, dripping form solemnly for a moment and then, having weaned quite some time ago, announced, "I don't use those anymore, so they should be falling off any day now."

Gina Rozon of Saskatchewan, Canada won an earring and pendant set, courtesy of Attachmentscatalog.com. Gina is the mother of Denise, 9, and her clutter-reducing daughter, Liana, is now 6.

Second Place Winner: The Hungry Elbow
My first child slept many hours of each night in the bed between my husband and me, and I nursed him off and on all night, rarely coming fully awake in the process. One night I felt him moving against my body, and I pulled him close to my bared breast. But he wouldn't latch on, and he seemed to have wiggled out of his clothes. I rolled him in the loose folds of my flannel nightgown, tucked the bed sheet tightly around the edges, and pulled him even closer to keep him warm, but he still wouldn't nurse.

Finally my husband's voice penetrated my sleepy brain: "What the devil are you trying to do to me?" I'd dragged him halfway across our king-size bed, entangled his arm in flannel and sheeting, and was desperately trying to get his elbow to nurse! Our baby was sound asleep in his crib on the far side of the room.

Peggy Vincent of California received a pair of earrings, courtesy of Attachmentscatalog.com. The baby in the story, Colin, is now 29. Peggy is also mother to Jill, 26 and Skylar, 15.

Third Place Winner: The Evil Twin Goes Shopping
Here is a funny story and it just happens to be my most embarrassing moment ever! I have three young children all less than two years apart. My last two, Tanner, who was at the time 23 months old, and Gavin who was about 6 weeks old, were both born at home. I've nursed all of my babies until they wean themselves -- at least 4 years old. I definitely consider myself quite breastfeeding-savvy. I'm a La Leche League leader and midwife, to boot. Needless to say, my confidence was a lot higher than it should have been.

So when the baby, Gavin, was about 6 weeks old, the kiddos and I were in Wal-Mart doing the usual family shopping. My husband was at work and we were on our own. The baby was in the sling hooked up and nursing with his new, darling organic cotton aviator's hat on. I just loved that hat and he wore it proudly as he gulped down mommies' milk. Feeling confident, as usual, that all was well on the nursling front (i.e. appropriately covered), I pushed the shopping cart through the children's department, baby slinged, when I was approached by a woman with the usual enthusiasm of seeing a newborn.

She ran up to me and excitedly asked if I had twins. I said cautiously, "No, why do you ask?" as I felt this sinking feeling wash over me. We simultaneously looked down at the baby in the sling and realized at exactly the same moment that the other "head" she was seeing was my big 'ol pasty-white boob! My shirt was up under my armpit and boy did it look like there were two babies in my sling! Of course she quickly looked up at me and sort of screeched out that she was sorry and took off running to the shoe department.

I, feeling humiliated and trying not to have a pee-pee accident from my intense laughter, gathered up my son's "evil twin" and returned to our shopping expedition. From that point on, all of my girlfriends give me a hard time about Gavin's "evil twin" and make a point of asking how both of my boys are doing! It was so funny and embarrassing and I'm just sure the folks in the security camera area run back the tape from time to time for a good laugh.

Jana Claflin of New Mexico received a pendant, courtesy of Attachmentscatalog.com. Her children are Morgan Payne, 5, Tanner Cade, 3 and Gavin, 21 months.

Runners-up

It was so hard to narrow down the winners to just three, we just had to add a runner-up category. Six lucky moms with fantastic stories to share won iParenting.com T-shirts.

Late Night Slapstick
I was nursing my 6-week-old baby in bed when I heard a slapping noise. I opened my eyes to see my sleeping husband slapping his own face in irritation. In my sleepy stupor, it took a minute to discover the source of his irritation. My other breast, which had made its way out of a nursing opening in my PJ's, was shooting breastmilk onto his face, a distance of about 2 feet! After we laughed about it, he reminded me to keep something available to catch my leakage.

Ellen Stukel, of Illinois, is mom to Mark, 6, Tom, 4 and Meghan, 7 weeks.

Best Friend Saves the Day
On the eve before my first Mother's Day, I awoke in the middle of the night, not to my month-old daughters' nudges to latch on, but to a horrible pain in my abdomen. As I slipped out of our family bed trying not to wake the other two, I was astonished by the energy the pain took on. I made myself a nice hot bath and slipped in trying to relax from what I thought to be menstrual cramps, but as I tried to relax I realized that this couldn't be menstrual cramps. I have a high tolerance for pain but this was close to childbirth! I tried to tough it out until the sun came up but soon realized I couldn't ...

Reluctantly, I awoke my sleepy husband and equally sleepy baby and told him we needed to go to the emergency room. After sitting through what seemed to be a hundred different blood tests, The doctor had concluded that I had gallstones, and one was actually plugging the common bile duct which was causing so much pain. Again and again they tried to offer me pain medication but said I would not be able to nurse my baby for up to four hours after.

Lily was an avid little nurser and I knew she would not go for that long, so I toughed it out while the doctor consulted other physicians, Finally the doctor decided that they needed to admit me overnight with emergency surgery the next day. Surgery? I consulted with a lactation consultant and she advised not to nurse for 12-15 hours after my surgery due to the heavy medications.

Besides from being scared to death of surgery, I was overcome with worry as to what I was going to do for my baby ... A little background on my daughter Lily, she would not and still will not take a bottle, in fact she cries if you even bring one near her. The doctors assured me, "Oh, she will take one if she gets hungry enough ..." Wanna bet!

Finally, after trying unsuccessfully to get her to take a bottle, I called my best friend to ask for advice. She has a son just three months older then Lily. I was in complete mental and emotional breakdown with concern for my baby girl -- I wanted this to be as gentle as possible. But as soon as she spoke she laid my fears to rest. "What would you think about me coming to your house and nursing her?"

It had never even occurred to me -- although I had read about shared nursing, and wasn't opposed to it -- after all we had shared our pregnancies and both had a clean bill of health. "I wonder if she will nurse from you?" I replied. "Well, what do we have to lose from trying? At least I can help Matt take care of her."

So the decision was made. Tiffani would drive two hours to the town we live in and nurse both her son and my daughter for 24 hours. That is, if Lily would comply. The next day I still wasn't well enough for surgery as my liver was very swollen. Tiffani, her husband Eli and son Isaiah arrived early that morning. It was decided that they would take Lily the next morning before surgery and keep her overnight at our house until I could leave the next day.

The thought of leaving her overnight made me ill but I knew she'd be safe, and I also knew that the night feeding was going to be the most challenging. So the next morning as they wheeled me away for surgery. I kissed Lily good-bye and prayed to the goddess that she would nurse contentedly from Tiffani. Hours later, as I woke up from surgery I saw my husband's smiling face. He whispered to me, "Good news honey, your surgery went totally fine and also Tiffani just called and Lily has nursed herself to sleep."

I remember my eyes welling up with tears, I still get teary when I think of it. My baby was going to be OK, thanks to my friend who had shared so much with me had now given me peace of mind through such a difficult time ... Later we talked about what a wonderful bond our families now shared and I truly felt this took our friendship to a new height ...

Fonta Molyneaux of California is mother to Lilyana Rain, now 6 months old.

Hey! I Don't Have a Breast!
When Benjamin was born, we bought our 3-year-old, Sammy, a doll so he would have a baby to nurture, too. One day I sat down on the couch to nurse Benjy. Sammy climbed up next to me with his "baby." I settled my baby in the crook of my arm and he did the same. I lifted my shirt, he lifted his shirt. As Benjy latched on and happily started nursing, Sammy looked down and exclaimed, "Hey! I don't have a breast!"

Sunday Morning Surprise
I was at church one Sunday morning with my 6-week-old in a sling nursing away. It came time for communion, and being it was my second nursling, I felt pretty confident that I could nurse in discretion while taking communion.

Well, I got up to the priest and held my mouth open to receive communion and instead of him saying, "The body of Christ," he said, "Um, I think your baby is done nursing." I looked down and there was my sweet peanut, milk drooling out of his mouth, sound asleep and as proud as can be was my quite large nipple peeking out for the world to see!

I always wonder now when I go up for communion if the priest has a hard time keeping a straight face when seeing me and baby in tow.

Dianne Lopez-Wild of Michigan is mom to Josiah, 4 and Rio, 2-1/2.

Let's Wait Until Mommy Finishes Her Snack
I love nursing my son. I remember in the hospital, several hours after I had first delivered him, when I really still couldn't quite grasp that I was a mother; that I was his mother, the night-duty nurse brought him to me and put him to my breast. And he began to suckle. And we could see him swallow. I remember thinking I have never known love; I have never known what it means to give. Not really; not until that moment.

We've been nursing ever since (27 months and counting), though I never planned to nurse this long. But you asked for a story, so here it goes. (Actually, I'll share two memories.)

Not long ago, after I had finished doing the laundry, mopping the floor and cleaning the bathroom, I sat down with a bowl of chips, a glass of soda and a Ruth Rendell mystery. My son was watching a video, but as soon as I sat down, he wanted to climb on up and nurse. "Oh darling, let's wait until after Mommy eats these chips." I proceeded to eat them -- one by one. He looked up at me, shook his head, thrust his two little hands into the bowl, grabbed two fistfuls of chips and pushed them towards my mouth.

My second memory is one that probably all mothers who have nursed toddlers experienced. My son has recently begun to kiss my breasts after he has finished nursing. And just the other day, he whispered "thanks."

I think about all those who tried to discourage me; who said I would spoil him; or worse, who thought it was perverted, somehow, to nurse a toddler, and feel sorry for them, really. Because they have never known the joy of nursing a toddler. For the rest of my life, these memories; these experiences are mine, available to me, to lift me and lighten my step.

Marisa Steffers lives in New York with her son Jude, 2-1/2 years old.

Drip, Drip, Drip
I recently had my third child. I have breastfed all three, and while at home I regularly run around with no bra on to be able to breastfeed easily. One of these times, when I had just started feeding Zoe, who was only a couple of weeks old at the time, the door bell rang. I got up and answered the door to find a magazine sales representative.

As the gentleman started his pitch, Zoe starting fussing because she had been interrupted. As all new mommies know, you can start leaking at the drop of a hat. So, as I was standing at the door, holding Zoe and listening to the sales person, I kept feeling this drip ... drip ... drip, on my bare feet. At first it startled me and I stepped back and looked down to see a small puddle of milk on my hardwood floor and all over my foot.

When I did this, the gentlemen looked down at the same time. What could I say? Nothing. I'm sure I turned three shades of red and told him that I didn't have the time to read any magazines right now, thank you. This is about the one and only time I did have a salesperson take no for an answer the very first time I said it.

Angela Seats of Missouri is mom to Celeena, 5, Kora, 3 and Zoe, 6 months.