So last week I wrote about
going to wanting to stop breastfeeding. I just wanted to write another update on how that’s going…and…
It’s not. I haven’t actually stopped breastfeeding. I offer Archer a couple of bottles throughout the day, but when he wants the boob he gets the boob. I know, I’m totally a suck (pun intended) for this boy. I can’t seem to stand my ground. It’s just…he isn’t ready, and he looks up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes all CAN I HAS SOME MILKS MUMMY PLSSS and I can’t resist.
He’s so easily comforted by them, these squishy things called boobs. Sure, I’m still deeply irritated by the fact that I have to get up a billion times at night to comfort him with my boobs and I’m exasperated and cannot for the life of me figure out why my child refuses to learn how to fall asleep on his own, without the help of my boobs, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy our nightly cuddles. I may be irritated at first, but then I’ll look down and see him suckling happily away with his eyes closed and his expression so peaceful and he’s just so stanking cute that I can’t begrudge him. I’m reminded in those moments that my baby is my baby, and he’s only ever going to be this little now. He’s now ten months old, which means he’ll be a year old in just two more months.
I shouldn’t be rushing this process. I shouldn’t be wishing it away. I know I’m going to regret doing that, I know I will regret rushing him off my boobs because he’s my last baby and I will never experience this again.
I’m not opposed to giving my boobs a break when needed though. Archer gets at least one bottle (or sippy cup) of either super watered down apple juice, formula, water, or homo-milk. Yes, I’ve started a little bit of homo-milk because he is still nursing 95% of the time and enjoys to have a little taste of it. I wasn’t planning on starting that so soon, but he got a hold of his cousin’s bottle and would not let it go for the life of him. He didn’t have any reactions at all, so why not right?
He is also eating lots of fruits and veggies during the day. The boy loves his steamed cauliflower, broccoli and carrots. He loves spaghetti, strawberries and watermelon. He especially loves to feed himself and wants absolutely nothing to do with puréed food. I know that he’s eating lots of yummy foods and he’s happy, so I am happy too.
I’m still pushing against that wall, the wall I seem to hit every once in a while where I want to stop and I’m nearly there and I’ve just had enough. What’s keeping me going is Archer’s refusal to stop, and those nightly cuddles.
I’ll tell ya though, this time it has been tough. Last night around 8pm I experienced the first majorly clogged duct. I’ve had minor clogs before, but pumping and Archer’s feeding always cleared them. This one was ridiculous…it was the size of a golf ball and so damn hard. I was in tears, going back and forth from massages and hot wash clothes to pumping and hand expressing – nothing was working. Archer finally woke up around 11 to nurse again, and relieved some of the pressure but not all. I even developed a fever and was shaking all night long. Matt (who generates a lot of heat naturally) had to hold me so I wouldn’t chatter my teeth off. Tylenol helped, but I still felt crappy all day long.
I’m finally beginning to feel better now, my boob is still tender and I’m over producing a lot…probably because of all the pumping and hand expressing yesterday, and because the other night I drank several beers. That probably wasn’t my best idea…I just figured since drinking dehydrates me, if I drank beer I wouldn’t have issues the next day. Apparently I was wrong.
Note to self: when indulging in a night of drinking, make sure it isn’t beer.
So, for the time being…we’re still on a breastfeeding journey. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think [daily] about stopping breastfeeding and regaining control of my breasts (leaking nonstop is kind of getting old at this point), but…I don’t know. I’m giving myself until the last week of August, when Matt and I need to go up North sans kids to finish packing. If Archer is content on the bottle by the time I come back (as I know he will be), then I’ll probably be done.
Probably. Maybe. Who knows?