Remember back in September when all I had all that breastfeeding drama? Well, it didn’t end there. I took the herbal supplements, I took the prescription drugs, I pumped, I gave Amira my stockpile till it was gone, and I never made enough breast milk to keep up with her demands. The drama went on and on, and I persisted in giving her breast milk any way I could for as long as I could, but I couldn’t do it as long as I wanted. So after 8 months of martyring myself to give her all that I could, it’s done.
My feelings about this are mixed. The last few months were HARD. I’m glad they’re over. I’m glad that I can finally stop worrying about feeding her and just feed her.
I’m glad I can stop timing our lives around when I have to pump next, and just be with her, and play with her, and enjoy her, and give her a bottle when she needs it without having to schedule everything around a little motorized device in a black bag that I think they tried to design to look like some kind of designer handbag but that really needs a redesign because it looks like a relic from 1987.
I’m glad that I no longer have to deal with those terrible blocked milk ducts (another benefit of breastfeeding that no one told me about before I had a baby). They kept me from taking care of her, and enjoying her. I’m so so glad that those are over.
But I’m also sad. I’m sad that the closeness we had while I was breastfeeding was so short-lived, and that it’s over for good.
And I’m mad. I’m mad that I couldn’t just feed her the way I wanted. I’m mad that after the easiest of pregnancies and deliveries, the one thing that had to be all DRAMA was the breastfeeding. I would have taken morning sickness, stretch marks and 24 hours of labour if I could have just fed her the way I wanted, for as long as I wanted.
I’m jealous that other women can breastfeed and I can’t. I see these women – some of them are my friends – and I wish so hard that it could be me. I know I’m not the only one. I know there are so many other women out there who have problems breastfeeding. But of course, the only ones I see – the only ones I let myself see – are the ones to whom it seems to come so easy.
But now it’s done, and it’s time to get over it and move on. Amira is healthy and happy and we have a million amazing moments together every day. I gave her my best. I always will.