I’m not so good with other moms. I don’t think I can play well with them. Except those of you who comment here and who I’ve gotten to be friends with. You guys are cool. How come y’all can’t live closer?
I took Nugget for a walk in Greenlake Park yesterday (OH MY GOD. The gorgeousness of this place. I kinda felt like I was back in Prague again) and noticed all the moms and groups of moms out with their babies. And I couldn’t help but notice that they all looked like they lived in Bellevue (the wannabe Beverly Hills of Seattle) and they all just looked very… I dunno. I’m sure some of you know what I mean.
ANYWAY. My point is. I’m also a member of a couple online mother’s groups. Or was. I unjoined a couple days ago because I’ve gotten all I can out of them. That pumping moms group, in particular. These groups use stupid abbreviations for things and the abbreviations might be the one reason I can’t hang with these people.
DD, DS, DH, HUTH, etc. That’s “darling daughter/son/husband” and “hang up the hose or horns.”
The DH one, though, I was informed could mean either “darling husband” or “damn husband.” Chuckle chuckle, aren’t they all witty? *gag*
MY thinking is that, well, I pretty much assume that you love your kid, so the “darling” part is unnecessary to me, to advertise that fact. Can’t they just say “son” or “daughter”? I’ve refused to partake in this abbreviation game and do, in fact, just say son, daughter and husband.
Then there’s HUTH. Again, can’t we just say STOP PUMPING? Tell it like it is, people.
And HUTH is what brings me here today.
I’ve been full of bravado about this pumping business – and I WAS full of bravado. In fact, I almost wasn’t going to write about this because there had been so much bravado and I always have this paranoia that somewhere someone is snarking about me and saying, “Oh, what, she talks a big game but look at that, she’s giving up, after all.” (Yeah, I have been seeing therapists off and on for almost two decades now.) My mom thinks it’s weird because, as she said, “Since when are you somebody that gives a shit what anyone else thinks?” Well, it seems motherhood is my achilles heel. I often fret about what people think about the kind of mom I am.
Anyway. Then I decided it was stupid to not write about it because A) What the fuck DO I care what anyone else thinks? and B) I don’t know. Maybe it’ll help someone if I keep talking about it. I know it’s often helped *me* to read other people’s experiences of things, so… to thine own self and everyone else, be true.
I really hit a wall a couple weeks ago. I’ve hit walls before and usually I just keep on pumping through it until I regain my momentum a day or two, or even an hour, later. This time, though, I’ve not regained an ounce of momentum and have been growing more and more resentful and frustrated with the pumping with each passing day. It started because I noticed a dip in my supply – which, from what I’ve read is common around 4 months. I stressed myself out about him getting more formula, but was just too exhausted to go through the routine of trying to get it back up again. I couldn’t bear the thought of pumping, frantically, every 2 hours again and I was tired of all the oatmeal/fenugreek/mother’s milk tea/lactate support capsules/etc that I’d been taking that never really seemed to do all that much for me, anyway.
I’ve finally gotten more accustomed to life here and been trying to do things, and I can’t begin to explain how frustrating it is to have to arrange your schedule around being attached to a machine every day. It’s not just the inconvenience of it, because really, I do believe he’s worth a bit of inconvenience, but psychologically and emotionally, it kind of fucks with your head.
And you can’t just quit, cold turkey. You have to wean off, dropping pumping sessions or putting more time in between sessions, until your supply basically dries up altogether. I’ve been doing this, very very gradually, the past few days and then I find myself panicked about letting my supply drop off. It’s a rock and a hard place. I’ve hit not just a wall, but an immovable mountain, but at the same time I feel anxious and guilty about actively just letting it all dry up. I mean, “dry up.” It has such an awful sound to it.
I really thought I could & would want to make it to a year. Or 6 months, at the very least. I thought, ok, if I can’t deal with pumping anymore, then we’ll try breastfeeding again. I tried, a couple times, and I’m pretty sure that time is past. I’ve often joked about Felix’s need to be unconstrained and how he hates “being held like a baby” (cradled). Well, I cradled him and tried to feed him and OH BOY, did he hate that. He was desperate to get his arms free from being pressed up against me/him. I could have persisted, but I think I’ve used up all I got over the past few months.
Knowing that I want to, ya know, “HUTH” (I can’t help but pronounce that very loudly, every time I think about it. HUTH! Sounds like I have a lisp), I’ve been giving him less and putting some away in the freezer. I’ve built up a small stash and I’m not quite sure how it’ll be used yet. Once a day? For outings? Only when we have sitters?
It still bums me out that we never got it to work and no matter how many times everyone tells me that I tried REALLY HARD and for good amount of time, I still sometimes think, “I should have tried harder” or “I should have contacted a lactation person the moment we got up here” instead of going on about how much we were trying to accomplish and how it was stupid to add more stress to it all.
But he got nearly 4 months of 99% milk. Or, MM. Another stupid abbreviation. And I suppose that’s something.
I fret about his health, but I’ve gotten a lot of supportive emails from friends about being formula fed or friends/siblings being formula fed and being perfectly healthy. Plus, I’ve already gotten the baby food maker and all that, and have always had every intention of making all his baby food, myself, from organic and local produce & pastured meats. That’s something I know I’ll have no problem doing. But for now, I need to focus on the positive and just learn to let myself off the hook because it’s no good to go on feeling resentful and upset all the time.
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