Like I inhabit a physical body or something
I've been in the process of weaning for what seems like seventeen eternities, but the end is in sight!
I'm down to her morning nursing and going-to-bed nursing. No more pumping! EEEEEEEEE! The next feed to go is morning. I'll be able to sleep in sometimes! Then by next weekend, no more evening nursing either. My boobs will be my own!
And while I'm elated to be almost free, I'm also having some serious hormone crashes. Crashes where I NEED to be holding my baby NOW, or where I just feel generally bereft. And some of it is about being annoyed. I mean, I spent this many months getting to the point where it was easy and I had enough milk and Little Bits didn't rage out in frustration. So now I want to stop something that I worked so hard to achieve. Dammit, I want my gold star, but instead I'm getting sore boobs and a mild depressive funk.
It also doesn't help that most of the weaning advice I've seen is for how to make it easier for the baby. SHE IS FINE. SHE LOVES BOTTLES. WHAT DO I DO ABOUT MY BOOB ROCKS? All I can see is ice packs, tylenol, and (of all things) cabbage leaves.
*sigh*
I feel like motherhood so far is a bunch of diametrically opposed feelings. I'm glad to be (nearly) free of nursing, but I'm going to miss nursing her. I'm relieved when I drop her off at daycare, but I'm counting down the minutes 'til I pick her up. I'm thrilled that she's sleeping through the night, but am terrified that she's suffocated in her sleep.
Babies, man. They'll screw you up.
I'm down to her morning nursing and going-to-bed nursing. No more pumping! EEEEEEEEE! The next feed to go is morning. I'll be able to sleep in sometimes! Then by next weekend, no more evening nursing either. My boobs will be my own!
And while I'm elated to be almost free, I'm also having some serious hormone crashes. Crashes where I NEED to be holding my baby NOW, or where I just feel generally bereft. And some of it is about being annoyed. I mean, I spent this many months getting to the point where it was easy and I had enough milk and Little Bits didn't rage out in frustration. So now I want to stop something that I worked so hard to achieve. Dammit, I want my gold star, but instead I'm getting sore boobs and a mild depressive funk.
It also doesn't help that most of the weaning advice I've seen is for how to make it easier for the baby. SHE IS FINE. SHE LOVES BOTTLES. WHAT DO I DO ABOUT MY BOOB ROCKS? All I can see is ice packs, tylenol, and (of all things) cabbage leaves.
*sigh*
I feel like motherhood so far is a bunch of diametrically opposed feelings. I'm glad to be (nearly) free of nursing, but I'm going to miss nursing her. I'm relieved when I drop her off at daycare, but I'm counting down the minutes 'til I pick her up. I'm thrilled that she's sleeping through the night, but am terrified that she's suffocated in her sleep.
Babies, man. They'll screw you up.