now that the boys are 9 months, i have to admit i’ve been thinking a lot about how this whole weaning thing is going to happen. i’m definitely committed to nursing these dudes until one year (give or take a few weeks, or months!). i mean, we’ve made it this far, through all the misery and crying and reflux and anti-latching and crying (it deserves two mentions) and bouncing on the stability ball while nursing (i’m serious with this one!) and mastitis and plugged ducts…need i go one?! twelve months minimum is what it is, given what it took to get these guys to actually nurse effectively, let alone ENJOY it! we’ve got it down though, and have since about 4 months, and now our days are punctuated by roughly 5 “sessions,” each about 10 minutes tops. not bad.
this weekend i made the bold and totally compulsive decision to eliminate my end-of-the-day pump. j and i watched “the letters of iwo jima” (excellent flic) and got through about half of “death proof” (not so excellent) when the time came for me to pump. j always conveniently reminds me, and then it takes me about 15-20 minutes to actually bring myself to do it. it’s like the chore you absolutely hate to do and have to talk yourself into. it was then and there that i decided i would much rather go to bed, and screw the pumping! the boys DON’T need the extra milk mixed into their oatmeal every day. sure, it might taste better, but who cares?! and so i skipped it. it was that easy. and i skipped it the day after. and the day after that. and that’s that!
the pump is still conveniently sitting next to the computer, should i decide in some moment of insanity (or engorged boobs) that i need to use it again. but for now, i think i’m done with it. and trust me, this is a celebration that deserves a big night out on the town for. because at one point i interacted more with the pump than with my husband. like nine times a day more. and i know many of you reading this post right now are saying “amen, sister!” jordan and i are trying to line up a babysitter as we speak so we can celebrate appropriately. but my relationship to this pump is definitely bittersweet, and i have to pat it on the back for getting me through this. for if it not for the pump, i wouldn’t have been able to do the past 9 months. my kiddos would have never gotten mom’s milk in the first place. and for that i will always be grateful to that damn machine. as you can see, i love it and i hate it.
so with that, i have made my first step on the road to freedom. freedom from tubes and flanges, freedom from what looks like an innocent backpack, freedom from that constant droning motor, freedom from the porno tube top. and ultimately freedom from these two beautiful little men who still own my body…for the time being.
p.s. i need to give a grateful shout-out to my dear friend dana who, if it were not for her letting me borrow her pump, i would not be writing this today. this pump has walked a million miles, girlfriend, and i owe you big-time. xo.