
My name is Chantelle, and I haven't breastfed for a month now.
I write that like it's a confession. A remorseful confession. And I guess it is.
I had been toying with the idea of giving up breastfeeding for a while. Everyone has their opinion, and most weren't afraid to share it with me. The voices played off in my head. Give up. No don't. She doesn't need it anymore. It's so good for her. Keep it up.
One day I just woke up and decided that I wasn't going to breastfeed anymore. The one thing I knew was that I couldn't stew on the decision. I'd be emotional. I'd cry feeding her for the last time. So, I just didn't give her that last feed. I didn't feed again.
I thought it would solve all my problems. I'd have my body back. Lacey would sleep better. She wouldn't smell my milk anymore, and therefore she wouldn't wake up at night.
Obviously I'm a parenting genius and should CLEARLY write a book.
I did think that Lacey would be more upset than she was. She probably searched for a feed for the first few days, but after that she didn't even seem concerned with the whole weaning process. Meanwhile I was in sheer pain and agony. My breasts were engorged. I couldn't move or lift anything. I didn't know what to do.
I went to see the local pharmacist. He said that I should express a little off, and then see my doctor for some medication.
I left the chemist and wandered to the fruit shop to grab some supplies. As I left I noticed the pharmacist waiting outside for me. He'd realised that there wasn't a medication and he'd been confused. He said I should just express a little off, not enough to demand more from my supply. And he wished me luck.
I realised in that moment how odd that was. I was standing in a main street, talking to a young male pharmacist about my breasts. I think I even motioned towards them, explaining how sore they were. I didn't really even care.
Eventually they stopped being sore. They leaked a LOT though. I never had to use breast pads... but during those few weeks I would leak at any time. It didn't matter where I was.
So the decision was made. I didn't back down. Did I make the right decision? I don't know. I don't do regrets... but there is a part of me that wishes I didn't rush so much into my decision. For the month since I weaned Lacey has been sick EVERY day, bar four of them. Every day. Do you know what settles a upset little breastfed bubba? Breastfeeding. Do you know what I couldn't do? Breastfeed.
There is definitely guilt. Definitely a tinge of sadness. I didn't know that so many emotions and feelings were attached to breastfeeding. I thought that people gave it up willy nilly and then went and drank twenty bottles of wine and had a night on the town to celebrate their freedom.
Ok. I know that's not what happens, but I didn't realise just how attached us Mama's can get to it all.
In this past week there have been some moments when Lacey, in the midst of sickness and overtiredness, has motioned for a feed. There was even a moment when I sat down with my grizzly girl and started to hold her and prepare to unclip my maternity bra, when I realised that I don't have any breast milk... and I was wearing an underwire bra. It was such a natural thing to do. Wearing an underwire bra was not so natural. I had to put my training wheels on and get used to that again.
So that's my weaning story. I felt like the Universe was conspiring against me and my decision by making Lacey sick for this past month. If I knew all this would have happened, I wouldn't have given up. Actually, my advice to myself would be to give it up slower. I would still like to be feeding her at night to settle her. Just the one night feed.
But at the end of the day (anyone hate that saying? I know there must be at least one out there) my little girl is still happy and somewhat healthy, and I'm happy too. Thinking back that I had such supply issues for the first few months, I actually did well. I should at least give myself a little pat on the back, I guess. xx
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Etsy