To boob or not to boob

That moment when you are juggling a full time job and trying to extract as much food for your little nugget as possible. That moment when you begin to realize that you are just a few freezer bags away from living pay check to pay check with your supply. That moment. That’s the moment I hate. That’s the moment I’m living in right now.

I think being able to nurse is SUCH a blessing. Think about the quiet time you get to spend with your little one, think about the snuggles, think about his/her sweet face when he/she is stuffed to capacity, happy and sleepy, think about all the nutrition you are sharing with your wee one, think about all the money you are saving and can reapply for shoes…I mean college, college! Think about the amazing thing your body is doing for you and the health of this precious little life that the man (or Woman) upstairs chose you to take care of. Think about the fact that it’s totally acceptable for you to not wear a “real” bra and just feed your kid at the drop of a hat. Actually, it’s more like a drop of your shirt or bra flap thing…you get my point. Thinking about all those things (and many more) brings tears to my eyes when I fear my time is up.

What happens next? I get google happy, that’s what! “How to increase your supply”, “Why is my supply dwindling”, “Is my baby getting enough”, “Why isn’t my body producing”, “What am I doing wrong”, “Am I terrible?”, “Siri, hello?” “Oh wait, you aren’t siri”, “Wait what? Am I still googling…” I’m losing it. I’m losing it right? So.much.pressure. Why is there so much pressure? Do we put it on ourselves? Do we allow society to dictate how we feel and define what we should be doing, how often and when? I don’t know the answers but I know these feelings and questions keep me up at night and stress me the you know what out! And then I think…maybe THAT’S what’s happening to my supply! I’m like a little helpless hamster on this stupid squeaky wheel. All I want to do is make sure my little Roo is getting what he needs when he needs it and I feel guilty. I feel guilty because as much I love those moments and I love the benefits I also start to think…

Hmmm. I can drink coffee, like real coffee, with caffeine in it and stuff. Forget the coffee, I can sleep. Like all through the night if I wanted to. AND I can lie on my stomach while sleeping (all through the night) because my girls (that’s tata’s) won’t hurt. I can go out for a run without thinking about when to extract. I can weigh myself whenever I want (don’t act like you don’t wait to weigh yourself until after you have emptied the girls, your bladder…and let’s be honest – after a big ol’ poop). I can go to an event without having to figure out where to pump, when to pump, where to put it when it’s out and then worry the entire time if it’s cold enough to not make the nugget sick. I think all these thinks and for a moment, usually a short moment I get a little excited. I’m sure you can guess what comes next…I instantly feel guilty again.

Am I alone? Does anyone else ask themselves, “To boob or not to boob?”

Until next time…