I type this with sore eyes and somewhat of a broken heart. I didn’t think it would be over so soon. “Goodbye breastfeeding” I think to myself as my little one is no longer interested in breastfeeding. “Goodbye liquid gold” During a week when her immune system has been low, due to an illness. “Goodbye bonding” During a week we should be snuggling and nursing, not snuggling and guzzling formula.
I have had a low milk supply since the beginning. Which has always bothered me. How can so many other moms feed their babies than pump bottles? Or pump full bottles, where I could barely get 1 full ounce out of a breast. I’ve tried an electric pump, hakaa and a manual pump. Still, with my low supply, I would breastfeed than offer a formula bottle.
I switched my eating habits to completely dairy free for the baby, since she has a milk protein allergy. She has been topped off with Similac’s Alimentum formula since she was 2 months old. That stuff is NOT affordable. sigh…. “Goodbye savings”
I should be proud I stuck with it for as long as I did. She is just shy of 8 months old, but it hurts in a way I wasn’t prepared. Not physically, but emotionally. I’m sad. I’m upset. I’m emotional. I just want to nurture my baby for as long as I can and she already prefers bottles of formula over breastfeeding. I know it’s not ME she is over, even though it hurts. I know it’s probably quicker and easier to drink a bottle than it is to breastfeed from momma.
I think I should have prepared myself better. In different ways. Mostly the emotional part. Over the past couple months, my husband has been putting the little one down, to give me a break with her come 7pm. I would offer breastfeeding first, then daddy would swoop in with a bottle. Before I knew it, she didn’t want to breastfeed. Just wanted daddy with her bottle. Then it became during the day, she just wasn’t interested in breastfeeding at all. She is so busy learning to crawl, playing with toys and the dogs and even with eating, she would pass me up in order to do those.
No more morning snuggles on the couch as she nursed, she passes me up for a bottle. No more midnight breastfeedings, just midnight feedings.
I know I shouldn’t be this emotional. But I’am.
Maybe she is my last baby. Maybe not. I don’t know right now if we really want to have another baby right now. SO I guess I’m treating this as my last opportunity to have been able to breastfeed a baby. I know I should be proud. I know I should feel some sort of freedom.
But I don’t.
I keep telling myself “Well now, no more excuses, get up and work out. She can have a bottle in the stroller while you go for a walk or a run.” “Now you can leave her with someone, without feeling like your breasts are going to explode after two hours and you can feel confident she is fed.” “Now you can get back into your normal shirts and bras.” But a part of me still years for that closeness. That “I need only mommy to comfort me” feeling. I was proud of that. Don’t get me wrong, I love how involved my husband is, he is seriously the most amazing guy, but now I feel like I’m not needed.
I know, I know…that’s silly to think that. BUT I do. I’m sure it will pass. I’m sure in a week or two, this won’t bother me and my proudness of making it nearly 8 months will amaze me.
BUT for now, I will sulk into my wine glass and sob as I stare at the “Tree of life” photo I made of little one and I when she was a couple weeks old.