Today I think i hit rock bottom. For only the second time since BB was born I openly wept giant, bitter tears while he played on his mat a few feet away. The last two days have been train wrecks as far as pumping compared to Tuesday, when I pumped almost 5 ounces in addition to feeding. Yesterday I was having stinging pain in my right breast, making me wonder if maybe a clogged duct could be why I was pumping next to nothing even with eating one and a half packages of cookies (six cookies is a small package) and almost 3 quarts of tea.
In an act of desperation, gently suggested by RB last night, I called & left a message for the lactation consultant who owns the store I get my fenugreek and hippy tea from; we also purchased our breast pump there and she was very sympathetic (especially to my darling, who bravely faced his own discomfort helping his wife shop for a bteast pump) and knowledgeable.
So I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that I tried my absolute best to “exclusively breast feed” for as long as possible, but the reality is that my big boy will most likely burn through the rest of my frozen breast milk stash by this weekend and will have to be supplemented with formula. I think part of why I broke down is because I feel so guilty about it. I told RB last night, “That was my only job and I couldn’t do that.” I was surprised by his reaction because he actually got kind of pissed, and asked, “So youd be back at work if wecwere doing formula from the start?” No. “Your job is to feed him, yes. But you also have to clothe him, keep him clean, play with him and keep him entertained, which is hard enough. You have to engage him and keep him safe. And change diapers. You do everything for him.” Then he went on a rant about how some EBF proponents, especially the ones we encountered at the hospital when BB was born, are in a cult and he doesn’t want me to feel like shit about this. He said he felt guilty because lactation is the one thing he can’t help with, but he tries his best to be supportive and wished he could.
I need to remember that when I have another bad day, like probably tomorrow when I’m crying again about not being able to exclusively provide my stuffy BB with the best food on earth
pumpandump 