Breastfeeding is no joke.

This was a text I received from a friend this morning.  It was in response to me letting her know I began the weaning process. And she is 110% correct.

I am not that far into breastfeeding – my infant turns 7 weeks soon.  My other two kids were closer to 4 months or more, which means my body had gotten used to producing more milk and on-demand feedings, as well as pumping.  I remember weaning gradually, lengthening the times in between pumping to try and ease the process along.  But goddamn, I forgot how much it hurts.

I do feel lucky because we had been going 5-6 hours at night in between feedings, so my body had started to slowly adjust on it’s own.  But even with that, my boobs feel like throbbing rocks that are sitting in my bra.  I know I am close to freedom…I already switched to a sports bra instead of a breastfeeding one.  I had a few glasses of wine to celebrate Valentine’s Day with no worry to how that would affect my milk.  I can eat spicy foods and eat milk related items without consequence to my infant.  I don’t have to worry about where I am and what I am doing with my infant because I can pack a bottle and some powder and BAM – instant food!  (Case en point, we were at karate yesterday for my older two and I was able to give the baby their bottle.)  Yes, I know I could whip out my boob to support feminine power or pump some for a bottle to carry along as a just-in-case feeding, and I had done the latter over the past few weeks but never needed it (I didn’t do the former though, I am not THAT comfortable with my body!)

I know that this is what’s best for my baby.  Christ, I have been fighting for this from the beginning when I found out that the chance of my third having the same allergies as my other two were pretty good (50/50).  I know that their belly will be better, they will be happier (eventually, once they get used to the formula), and will be more satisfied (I still had no clue if I was providing enough milk – isn’t that always a question for breastfeeding moms?)  If I remembered what the price was that I paid from the last two weaning sessions, then DAMN, I wouldn’t have done any breastfeeding at all.  Ok, yeah, I probably still would’ve done it, but SHIT, this hurts like a BEATCH.  Pray for me.  I think there is some serious Advil-popping, heating pad hugging, bra pad soaking-up, and alcohol drinking in my future.


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