Wednesday, January 30, 2008


Don't get all excited, it's not Friday. Yet. But Friday is a glorious and wonderful day for so many reasons and not the least of which is that on Friday Rolo will be six months old. Which means I get to stop breastfeeding. The fact that I will be able to slowly wean myself off that torture device they call a breast pump is thankfully distracting me from the fact that my kid has been around for half a year. On one hand I'm thrilled that I can stop pumping and on the other hand, I'm even more thrilled when I really think about how this will impact my life. It's become so engrained in my life that when I really consider that within a few weeks, I won't have to lug an extra tote bag around with me everywhere, nor will I have to build every day around where and when I can have some privacy, it's completely mind-blowing. Freedom, precious freedom!

I was reading a nursing site the other day where someone was talking about pumping exclusively and how some women did it because they were just too wound up to "relax" and allow their kids to nurse all day. Which infuriated me. I'm posted here before that one of the reasons I pump (other than the fact that I chose to work) is that Rolo would nurse, literally, all day long if I let him. He was totally inefficient at it and because he would fall asleep just minutes after starting to eat, getting full meals into him was like an all day project. And this blogger was basically marveling that someone, like me, wasn't patient enough to do just that.

Let me ask you this: how boring does your life have to be that you think spending days on end getting your kid to eat is totally cool and fun?

For whatever reason, Rolo always would drink a bottle straight down (with burping breaks of course) but would always fall asleep before he was finished eating if he was actually nursing. Beats me as to why, you'd have to ask him. But I don't think women who breastfeed, but choose to pump, should be criticized for not being patient with their kids. Believe me, in the middle of the night, it would be great to just attach a baby to you instead of a machine.

Another person mentioned how "lucky" women who pump are because they get to continue their regular lives and go out without the baby, etc. Yeah, um, I don't know that lucky is the word I would use. Mostly, because pumping is a choice and if you think we're so lucky, you're free to start pumping any time you'd like. But pumping is also incredibly draining, because you're literally measuring everything in ounces, constantly worried about production in a way that those who nurse don't. I'm not suggesting that nursing doesn't come with it's own level of anxiety about production--it's just not as tangible, being measured in bottles.

And don't even get me started on nipple confusion. Every baby is different, but mine didn't care if it was a bottle, a breast or a freaking shotglass as long as it had food in it. Perhaps there are more finicky babies who get confused but it certainly wasn't the case for Rolo.

So anyway, that within the next few weeks Rolo will be on formula entirely is a good thing. Liberating somewhat. Which means that Operation: Take My Body Back must go into fully swing. My brother's getting married this summer and I've got to look smashing. Plus, you, my dear readers, won't have to read about my boobs anymore. A win-win, no?

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