milks, the milks!

January 18, 2011

Oh boobs.  I figure we've given the topic enough of a rest lately that I'm ready to whip them out again and give them a gander.  I mean this blog could practically be called, I haz the boobies.  Maybe that should be my new tagline.  Right after, A bunch of uppity bitches or, I don't even know what these words mean!!  I'm torn, which is probably why I've never had a tagline.

In the fall I had set an end-date to pumping at work of new years, the ol' jan one.  Each week I was carefully and cautiously cutting down on my pumping sessions and decreasing the amount of milk we sent with the jude to Awesome Babysitter.  Then suddenly the legs were kicked right out from under me.  The week before Christmas I was informed that the empty office I had been pumping in was going to be occupied– TOMORROW.  So uh, ok.  Holy Crap.  My planned end-date was still a month away and I suppose I could have gone back to my old pumping ground or tried to dig up another office but instead I went with it.  It seemed like fate was telling me to just bite the bullet and give it up already, and so I did.  Fifteen months later that was the end, just like that.  It felt like a slap in the face, but maybe one scented with lavender hand lotion and soft fuzzy bunnies.

For the last two months I've been pump-free and boy oh boy is it lovely.  Well, mostly lovely.  I like the not-having-to-pump part and love the not-having-to-wash-stuff part but there's still bitterness and it's been surreal adjusting to a pump-free schedule.  Not to mention the uh, discomfort I'm STILL experiencing near the end of the day.  Seriously boobs, seriously?  You can get on board with the new schedule any time now, really.  Everyone else has.

When the end happened so abruptly my main concern was what is the jude going to do during the day!?  He's very entrenched in his bottle-routine at Awesome Babysitter's, which is even more strange because he won't take one at all at home, whether I'm there or not.  We had been cutting back on the amount he was drinking very gradually but not enough to compensate for a sudden zero.  We tested out a few days of cold turkey no-milks but it didn't go so hot.  Since then we've been sending a packet of frozen milk each day, finally putting to use the ridiculous supply build up we had stocked in the freezer.  Eventually we'll run out of frozen milk and have to confront the issue head on but for now frozen milk it is and all is well.  The tale of no more daytime bottle will be for another day.

I've continued to nurse on-demand and home with zero trouble, as so many of you promised me when I was scared and worried about the upcoming transition.  Even though I no longer pump during the day when the kid goes in for a snack it's still there, waiting patiently.  It's amazing how adaptable our bodies really are.  Crazy cool stuff.  It's almost like they're biologically programmed to do this or something.  The jude's still nursing about 4 times a day which seems to be working out well.  Well, it SEEMS to be, until I write it out like that.  Only 4 times a day?  Oh shew lord, my heart.  That cuts me deep, as the biz would say.

The end of our nursing time isn't here but I can see it off in the distance.  I can feel it's precursors taking hold and I've had glimpses of what it might be like.  Depending on which day you ask me this could be a good thing or a bad thing.  Today, in particular, it makes my soul ache with sadness.  I feel unprepared.  Other days I'd throw it a damn ticker-tape parade and buy it an ice cream cake.  In any event I don't think we're on the precipice of it very soon.  Some days he nurses less, some much much more.  Just when I think he's thinking of giving it up he's at my knee signing milk milk milk! in a wild frenzy of needing youWe're taking it day by day and rolling with the punches.

I looked my doom in the eye and saw its soul a few weeks ago.  Jon had to stay late at work so I shuttled the jude home by myself.  We rushed in the door and got started with evening activities, the removing of coats, sorting of laundry, unpacking of lunch boxes, letting out of dogs.  We shared some goldfish and zipped around, waiting for a call from Jon that he was ready to be picked up.  When he finally called I scooped up the jude and we rushed out the door and I realized, quite suddenly, that we had forgotten to nurse when we got home.  I had forgotten and jude hadn't asked; we had a snack and went about our business.

That's exactly how I imagine the transition should go in a best possible scenario.  With no one the wiser it will just happen one day and as sad as I am about the end of an era I couldn't be happier with the comfort and ease of that face.

{sigh. this post was originally titled boobs!!!! but it was pulling up in all kinds of skeevy search results. maybe the new title will help. sigh.}
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