The Breastfeeding Follow-Up

(Just some non-related pictures from a recent post-bath "naked time" for the grandparents to enjoy.)

When last I left my overly detailed description of our breastfeeding saga, it was about nine and half months postpartum and I was pumping about ¾ of the girls’ milk. In February, I dropped to pumping 5 times a day for 45 minutes each session; then, two weeks later, to 4 times a day. Amazingly, this didn’t affect my milk supply much. It felt so indescribably freeing to be pumping so comparatively little. At the beginning of March, I dropped to three times a day; and again, two weeks later I dropped to two a day. It was fairly uncomfortable, but by the end of March I was dropping two minutes a day from each of my 45 minute pumping sessions so that I was completely done on the girls first birthday. I had a little milk frozen because as they were eating more solids, I was finally having a little leftover to freeze, so they had their last breast milk bottle sometime at the end of April. It felt a little weird stopping; the girls haven’t been seriously ill this year and the colds they got were so minor, that I knew they were benefiting from some of the immune components of milk even if I wasn’t able to supply all that they drank. It didn’t make me feel any better that they became very sick the weekend of their birthday when they were getting far less breast milk. I know in my head the two things probably weren’t related, but it certainly didn’t making quitting any less guilt inducing. Plus, you know, I want them to be happy adults who don’t end up in prison and we all know that if you don’t breast feed your kids will spend at least some time in jail. That is, if they don’t succumb to scurvy first. It says so in all the breastfeeding books. A friend from college, let’s call her “Jenni,” was weaning her younger son around Christmas. At a party we were at together, she mentioned that she had been feeling guilty because, as she looked up information about weaning she ran across a website that said that it was important to be very sensitive to a child you are weaning because he or she is probably feeling that he or she is no longer loved. Rob was standing behind her as she said this and he was nodding his head as she spoke. When she finished talking, he said “Don’t feel bad Jenni- just imagine our babies, who have never known love.” So when I felt guilty, I would just imagine that moment, have a good laugh and remember that being a good mother is 99 percent of the time, not about what my children are eating.

Actually, breastfeeding/pumping is a fantastic way to suppress endometriosis and it had done such good job of doing that I was reluctant to give up that side effect as well. That and the oxcytocin and prolactin hormone cocktail that allow you to lactate are natural relaxants and feel good hormones that I was sad to part with, too. But, on the other hand, I gained back approximately FOUR HOURS a day that I had been devoted to expressing milk and that went a long way to making me feel good, hormones or no. One can do a lot in four hours-like clean the house, cook a meal, take two naps, work out, go to the mall without having to pump in the car. The possibilities really are endless. I hadn’t realized how physically exhausting making milk was. In the past month and half that I’ve been done, my energy level has increased 100% (as it turns out I can’t, but I FEEL like I could run ten miles) and I am finally loosing my baby weight. So while, I’m finally done with the breastfeeding, I feel like I’ve gained a lot more time in my day to focus on the more practical aspects of mom-ing, like keeping the girls from eating smooshed bananas off the floor or from poring olive oil all over the kitchen floor or programming our stereo to go off at 2 in the morning, as E recently did. It caused our Killers CD to come on at top volume and we are only now recovering from the cardiac events it caused to hear “Mr. Brightside” out of nowhere in the middle of the night. When you’re lactating, studies show you don’t reach deeper levels of sleep as often because your brain on some level is listening for your baby in case it wants to eat, so I’m finally sleeping deeply again, which is nice, too. People ask me a lot if God were to bless us with more children whether or not I would do the same thing again. The honest answer is “I’m not really sure,” followed quickly with “if that happens, you must fast and pray that the breastfeeding goes perfectly smoothly next time.” I’m so glad that I did it, but it was so enormously hard physically and because of the sadness I felt about the nursing thing not working out the way I’d hoped. Anyway, that’s the end of that story (I hope) and thanks so much to everyone who was so supportive during the whole thing.