Crying over milk.

For the last nine months my best friend was a back pack. Well, the first three months my BFF looked like a briefcase, then she "quit", aka stopped working, and I got a new BFF which looked like a back pack. What am I talking about? Nursing, or more truthfully, pumping.

Before I have birth I knew I wanted to breastfeed, it was never a question in my mind. I never even thought that I may have issues with it, I didn't realize people did have issues. When the girls arrived I started nursing right away and the lactation consultant (who was amazing!) had me start pumping after feedings to build up my supply and have a surplus. Great, things were going well besides a slight latching problem from charlie. But we got that worked out and we were on our way.

At the girls' 1 week check up their weight had dropped about 7 ozs each, leaving Charlie barely teetering on 5lbs. I remember feeling scared seeing how small she was and like a slight failure. I was their source of nutrition and neither girl was thriving. As an over achiever I was crushed. Dr. Powell had me start supplementing feedings with formula and I didn't fight him, I knew it was for two weeks and it was in the girls' best interest. And it was, two weeks later they had gained weight and I didn't have to supplement every feeding. But at that point it got hard/time consuming to nurse every feeding. I was alone during the days and for one of the two night feedings. Scott was only here on weekends and as ecstatic as I was about being a new mom, our life situation was emotionally draining.

I started pumping almost exclusively by the end of the first month. I would usually do at least one feeding a day nursing each girl but I also changed the night time bottles to formula. It worked out well for us and I don't regret it. I'm not the kind of mom that was going to fight to exclusively breastfeed, I wanted to do what felt best for the girls.

My goal was to make it one year breast feeding. At times I thought about giving up, pumping all the time was draining in more ways than one. And unfortunately it's not the most effective nursing method and more than once I got clogged ducts. Ouch!

My mom and Scott kept telling me from 7 months on, randomly and then more frequently as time went on, that I had done a great job and that I could stop pumping. I had fulfilled any duty that I might feel like I had to do. But I kept going even as my supply dropped. At the beginning of January I realized that I wasn't going to make it a year, my supply was too low so I started weaning the girls. It's been a long process it feels like and the girls got sick during the process, making me question my decision. But I kept going.

Today was the last day. All my pumping supplies are cleaned and I just packed them in a storage container. Am I relieved to have that time I spent pumping back? Yes. But oddly enough, I'm sad. My girls are getting bigger. I didn't make it to my goal. I'm questioning if I could've done more or could've done better. This was my thing that only I could do for them and I fell 3 months short of my goal.

I know it seems silly, and it's probably just hormones, but these are the things people don't warn you about with babies. The little things that will catch you by surprise and make you cry.