So I’m weaning G off boob milk. Breastfeeding is a time consuming, scheduling nightmare, and I’ve grown tired of being a slave to the pump. In order to establish and maintain an adequate supply, pumping needs to happen every 3-4 hours… no matter where you are, what you’re doing, or who you’re with. Which means I’ve whipped my tatas out some of everywhere- – in the car, in offices, in airports, on airplanes, in public restrooms (which is crazy, ’cause I can’t even poop in public restrooms), and in front of countless family members and friends who must have the image of my unfortunate looking, stretched out nips, burned into their minds.
I wanted to do the full year, I really did. But after hearing that many women stop at 6 or 9 months, I felt what better time to throw in the towel? To get my body back, to eat what I want, drink what I want (Tequila shot? Uh, yes please!), and sleep through the night… awesome, right? So why do I feel guilty? Like a bad mom? My irrational guilt is definitely something I need to explore ‘On the Couch’, but I digress.
I went to Target and purchased my first can of (expensive behind) formula. Enfamil. Brought it home, whipped up 4 bottles and stored them in the fridge for the day. The idea of having milk on deck, without stressing over producing it myself, perked me right up.
Then it happened.
I warmed the first bottle, and full of hope, handed it to Boog…
She wasn’t having it. After trying a few more times, I caved, pumped, and fed my baby.
Nikki zero, Gia one.
Since her persnickety butt only likes Earth’s Best brand oatmeal and baby food, I ran back out yesterday, bought their $30 dollar can of formula (nearly $60 worth of milk in 2 days), mixed it up, and SCORE! She loves it. So for now, she eats food twice a day, takes formula all day, and every now and then I’ll slip some breast milk in there. She’s happy, growing, and I’ve been emancipated.
As an aside, for those of you that are contemplating breastfeeding, (1) I love the Medela Pump in Style, (2) Fenugreek supplements really do work, (3)pump in front of the TV, on the phone, or while browsing the net to help the time pass, (4) consume more water than you thought humanly possible, and (5) know that what you’re left with may resemble two fried eggs hanging from nails… #justsaying. Oh, and two words, ‘milk blisters’. Look it up.