My Boobs Are Tired: A Breastfeeding Saga
As I approach the end of my breastfeeding journey with my second (and final) child, I recognize that this is often a bittersweet time for many moms. Not for me, though. I am all but jumping for joy. My boobs are tired, and I am ready to move on with life. I’ve even already started planning what I will buy myself as a reward for breastfeeding another child for an entire year (I prefer this approach to the more traditional “push present,” since it’s everything that comes after giving birth that is the hardest, in my opinion). That’s not to say I’m not proud of and grateful for my body’s ability to breastfeed a baby for an entire year. I couldn’t be more proud of this accomplishment, especially this time around.
My breastmilk supply survived me being stuck in labor and delivery for over 10 hours with postpartum hemorrhaging while my son was in the NICU with difficulty breathing. By the time we both went home three days later, my supply was strong enough to stop supplementing with formula. Four weeks later, I demanded a hospital loaner pump from the ER so I could keep my supply going as I lay in a hospital bed awaiting emergency surgery to treat another postpartum hemorrhage. I battled severe anemia and crippling anxiety--both after effects of nearly bleeding to death twice--determined to keep breastfeeding my baby.
I experimented with five different pumps--eventually settling on a rented hospital-grade pump--to regain my supply when a case of mastitis and the stress of returning to in-person work during the pandemic caused it to dip. The stakes were higher by then. I wanted my baby to get as many antibodies as possible from my covid vaccine, since I still don’t know when he will be able to get his own. I juggle pumping at work with having to get more done in less time to maintain the same productivity levels as my non-breastfeeding colleagues. And yes, I am even still brave enough to put my tender nipples in danger multiple times a day now that my baby has six razor-sharp teeth. My boobs should write their own memoir titled Nevertheless, We Persisted, which is perhaps why I am so proud.
Breastfeeding (and parenting in general) may be a natural or biological process, but that does not mean it is easy. For this reason, I would encourage all parents to identify something in their parenting journey, no matter how seemingly mundane or “biological,” of which to be proud. It’s so much easier to get yourself through those “parenting-fail” low points when you have something like this to recall.
