Tonight I am sad. Very very sad.
I’m not a huge lover of breastfeeding. I do it because I know it’s best for my babies, and I want to do what is best. I’m a rule follower, so if they say it’s best for the first year, I do my best to oblige. I exclusively breastfed for 6 months and then slowly started to introduce solids, and then everything exploded.
I’ve always had stomach problems. Ever since I was a teenager. They flare up every few years or so, but I’ve never experienced anything like this. A flare up pretty much occurs out of nowhere, and it brings me to my knees for at least a day, sometimes more like three or four days. I get dehydrated and weak, and if it gets really bad, I end up on enough pain killers to bring a bull to its knees.
And I keep on fighting. I drink my Mother’s Milk tea, and I’ve tried to drink high yeast beers. I drink more fluids than I ever have. I eat a lot of oatmeal. And it works to a point. Multiple times I have gotten myself up from one feeding a day to three. That’s a pretty big leap.
And then I get sick again.
If it were just the meds, I could pump and dump and pretty much maintain my supply. The problem is though the dehydration. It kills the supply. And then if it lasts for more than a day, I get weak to the point where it’s hard to function at even 25%, and I just don’t have the strength necessary to produce enough milk for little Mae.
And so I’m at a crossroads. I nursed once yesterday and once today, and both times, she was fussy afterwards. I’m going to try yet again to up my supply, but I’ve been on this roller coaster enough to know that it probably won’t do me all that much good.
And I have good reasons to quit. Really good reasons. For one, I’m about to start seeing a naturopath to see if there is anything he can do to help me, and the treatment protocol works best if I go on a round of detox supplements which aren’t compatible with breastfeeding. And it has been since before I was pregnant with Goosie that I was able to be on the most effective medication for my anxiety – May of 2010. If I wean, I can switch back to that medication until we want to get pregnant again, and I can finally experience the peace that no amount of therapy and no amount of breastfeeding compatible medications can give me. I can exhale for the first time in a very long time. And that thought makes me cry.
And I have to weigh the two — doing what feels right and natural and seems like it’s best for Mae and doing what it takes to keep me functional.
And in many ways the decision seems simple. I’m functioning at 40% capacity at best. If I go on this naturopathic regime and I go back on the medications, I will be a much better mother. I will have more energy and less pain and I’ll just feel a whole lot better. And I’ll be able to give all three girls a much more capable mother. I’ll be teaching them to care for themselves by letting them watch me take care of myself. The small boost that she would get from nursing a couple of times a day will probably be small compared to the benefit of having a mom who is not always in pain.
But still…
It’s a time that can’t come again. I can’t nurse her again. If I stop, I stop. By getting my body back, I lose that part of me that is forever physically connected to her. The relationship that started with her growing inside of me continues as long as she is still nursing. My body is still working for her. It’s still meeting her needs. We are still connected on a very strong biological level.
And does that matter?
Probably not. I’ll probably feel so much better once I can take care of myself that I’ll be happy with my decision.
But making it feels like jumping off a cliff.
And I’m not sure I’m ready to take the leap.
And right now, I’m just very, very sad.