Adios, Breastpump. See you in hell.
Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.
Actually, I’m sure a lot of breastfeeding
nazis advocates would indeed say that I didn’t try—or at least that I didn’t try hard enough. To them I say: kiss my bottle-feeding butt.
For the past two weeks, I’ve been taking two types of supplements, drinking copious amounts of Mother’s Milk tea, eating oatmeal for breakfast, eating “Milk Maker” cookies (delicious, if not milk-inducing), pumping frequently, having skin time, drinking a dark beer at night…and still nothing. Well, not nothing—about a little less than a third of an ounce each time. Which means that it takes over three pumping sessions to get a single ounce of breast milk to give to Lila. And so, although I know some people would disagree (cue frantic “ANY amount is better than nothing!!!!!”)…I’ve decided that for me personally, it’s just not worth it. Pumping was wearing me out. On Saturday, I pumped for thirty minutes, barely got enough to cover the bottom of the bottle, and then, in my sleep-deprived state, accidentally dropped the bottle on my way to the kitchen.
You can imagine the meltdown that followed.
I kept pumping half-heartedly for the rest of Saturday and Sunday, but honestly, at that point, I think I knew that I was done.
And that’s okay.
At least, I’m trying to tell myself that it’s okay. I’ve been telling myself a lot of things—it’s not meant to be. We’ll try again with the next baby. There’s nothing wrong with formula.
In fact, I don’t think there is anything wrong with formula. As I told my friend Lee, I know that we’ll find 5,980,465 ways to screw Lila up in the next 18 years, but I don’t think giving her formula is going to be at the top of that list.
And so, I don’t feel guilty about giving her formula—I feel pissed off that my body has let me down. As with so many realms of pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting, I had an expectation of how breastfeeding was going to go, and it’s frustrating (and at times infuriating) that things haven’t gone as planned.
But that’s life. We’ll move on. Motherhood is more than boobs.
Maybe I should get that printed on a t-shirt? With all of the responses that I’ve gotten about this struggle, something tells me it would sell pretty well. 🙂
Thanks for your support on this topic…your comments and e-mails have helped more than you know!