Reader’s discretion advised. Male readers or sensitive female readers may skip reading this post. Just sayin’…
The Sad News: I’m officially supplementing with formula.
Why sad? I am an avid breastfeeder. During my pregnancy I was never scared or worried about breastfeeding. Despite friends and close family members who were struggling. Frankly, I never even thought about.
Less than 2 hours old, Emma was a champ in latching on and nursing. From Day One we were a great team when it came to breastfeeding. I didn’t even have any cracked nipples or problems with her biting me and showing off her shark teeth (at the age of 6 months she had 4 teeth).
Our only struggle: Emma can’t sit still and nursing has turned into a wrestling match. Hence I decided to pump and bottlefeed. Only morning (before breakfast) and night (before bedtime) nursing was our special bonding time when she was actually cuddly and calm.
About a week ago, it got more and more difficult to produce enough breast milk to get Emma her daily 18oz. Frankly, I wasn’t totally clear on how much breast milk I should feed my giant 9 months old in addition to all that solid food she was chomping down. Emma’s pediatrician confirmed today that she needed indeed 18oz of breast milk or formula.
And there it was – the dirty ‘F’ word. Disclaimer: I’m by no means judging moms who decide not to breastfeed for personal, medical, ethical or whatever reasons. But you know I am on Team Mother Milk and for me formula was an absolute no no for as long as I could avoid it. Believe me, those past few months it became very tedious (and painful) to pump several times a day for at least 15 minutes per session. I pretty much worship my Medela Freestyle Pump but even she couldn’t help much. Yet, I kept pumping and pumping and pumping.
And that’s why today marks a sad day for me as I had to admit that I am no longer able to feed Emma with breast milk alone (in addition to her solid foods diet). We’ll see how much longer I can hang on to the morning and night nursing.
The Good News: Mr Thrasher gets ‘his’ boobies back.
As grateful as I was that Emma and I had such a wonderful breastfeeding journey, Mr Thrasher felt left out most of the times. The problem – besides boobs being occupied by baby or pump? I surely didn’t feel sexy about my breasts. They turned into a baby-feeding-and-soothing-machine instead of my not-so secret weapons (if you know what I mean).
Especially, those last few weeks of Extreme Pumping (Take that, Steve O. and Johnny Knoxville!) turned me into a wild animal every time my man came near me. (And not the wild animal he was hoping to find…)
Well, I just brought sexy back…
But tell me, how was your breastfeeding journey? How long were you able to nurse your baby? What did you struggle with and how did it make you feel?