It’s bittersweet to say goodbye to breastfeeding, pumping and nursing in its entirety. After 7 exceptionally long months, I’m closing up shop. This decision was partly made for me when my supply took a serious dip after returning to work, but mostly I’m ready to be done.
Checkout Our Recommendation
Will I miss it? Absolutely. Nothing will replace that exclusive, one-one-one time with my little one – rocking her while breathing in that sweet baby smell. I’m going to miss the ease of my boobs always locked and loaded with milk.
No need to bottle prep or mess around with formula. And you better believe, I’m going to miss the expense-free diet I was able to provide – No worrying about the cost or inconvenience of buying formula.
Although, I can’t help but to reminisce about certain aspects associated with breastfeeding, as time goes on, feelings of sadness are quickly replaced with excitement of the freedom that lies ahead.
1. I’m not going to miss being the sole provider of nourishment
No longer will I annoyingly look at my husband peacefully sleeping at 3 am while our baby’s cries of hunger beckon my immediate presence. I’m almost certainly not going to miss walking around on a schedule as if my teats are ticking time bombs ready to explode at a moment’s notice – rushing around like a lunatic before a leak erupts. I love my darling little, but I’m not going to miss the need for her and I to be joined at the hip – or in this circumstance, by my tit – because when she’s hungry, I must always be ready and waiting to whip one of my knockers out, anywhere and any time.
2. I’m not going to miss being a human chew toy
I’m not going to miss unassuming sharp pains from baby teeth gnawing into my nipple or tiny hands strongly squeezing, scratching and pinching my breasts as if they were play toys. My poor nips sure in hell aren’t going to miss the torture it endured while a tiny human chewed them up and spit them out on repeat for 7 long months. Chaffing. Cracking. Bleeding. The torture stops here.
3. I’m not going to miss nursing clothing
Although grateful we live in a time where breastfeeding is celebrated and I have a wide variety of nursing-friendly attire to choose from, I’ve always found them annoying AF. No more annoying clip claps of nursing bras and tops – and when that nursing top is nowhere to be found, I most certainly am not going to miss choosing tops solely based on the ability to stretch a neckline so a tit can easily be extracted.
4. I’m not going to miss pumping
I’m not going to miss juggling pumping sessions and sharing my nipple with not only a tiny human, but also a plastic cone with an unbelievably unforgiving suction ability. I won’t miss the scary appearance of my poor nipples after they’ve been milked by an electronic pumping machine, because nothing compares to how truly unrecognizable they become after they’ve been stretched and squeezed beyond repair. Oh, and don’t get me started on the relentless cleaning of pump parts. Nope, not going to miss any of that!
5. I’m not going to miss sharing my body
Most of all, I’m not going to miss having to share my body or feel like these foreign objects attached to me are not my own. Did I enjoy breastfeeding? Yes, I enjoyed nursing and the overall experience – for the most part – but I’m ready to reclaim these bosoms as mine, even if they no longer resemble the perky lady lovelies they once were pre-kids.
In the beginning of this transition, I was more than emotional. I was her source of food and it grew to become apart of my identity. I was proud of this superpower ability and worked damn hard to make it that long. Discontinuing made me feel as though it reflected negatively on me as a mother and as a provider. I often wondered if I was a bad mom as if I was being selfish, and apart of me worries the end of our nursing relationship may affect this intensely strong bond we share that I feel is largely related to breastfeeding.
All of these feelings were overwhelming at times leaving me in the saddest puddle of tears, but as time goes on, those feelings have quickly dissipated. When I see my husband feeding her and witness him growing an even stronger bond with our sweet little girl, I couldn’t be happier.
When 3 am rolls around and our little one is crying, you better believe the snoring giant next to me is getting up while I catch up on some much-needed sleep. One of the best parts? This mama is expanding her wardrobe beyond the clip claps of nursing bras and tanks. Bye Bye, breastfeeding! Hello freedom!
This post was originally published on Bless This Beautiful Mess.