Goodbye, Friend

The time has come to let it go.  This love/hate relationship has run its course and I'm finished. 

Yep, goodbye to the old milking machine. My pump and its assorted accoutrements are about to be put away one last time.  They have cluttered my minimal bathroom shelf space for long enough and I've got enough milk put away to last G to the 12 month mark.  I've been weaning myself from breastfeeding for the last few months when I stopped actually feeding George straight from the tap and went to just pumping and bottle feeding.  While I hated to let the breastfeeding snuggles go, it was sooooo much easier to have the ease of a bottle and not fight the endlessly distracted sharp-toothed baby to eat gently.  As I watch him gnawing on the bottle nipple every night I know I made a wise choice.

I loathe  pumping but to be finished is a little bitter sweet.  G is our last babe and it definitely marks the end of a long road for me.  I've been pregnant or nursing for about seven years straight so to have my body completely to myself will take a little getting used to.

I am, however, excited to throw away my ratty old nursing bras.  Those things have been in rotation about four years too long.  I got them with Dave, used them again with Frank, and with Stan I thought he might be our last baby and I didn't want to spend more money so I used them again.  Then - SURPRISE! - along came George and my poor girls are tired of those tired old bras.

I am also relieved that I won't relate so closely with the cows in the milking parlor, or the sows who just gave birth feed their litters of 16 at the State Fair.  It has pained my nipples to see those poor girls for the last few years and it'll be nice to watch them as a detached visitor rather than thinking "Oh Honeychild - I  know that has got to hurt!" and feeling like I knew what she was going through.

Now, what to do with that extra 1.5 hours everyday that I've spent pumping for the last few months.  I shudder to think of how much time I've actaully logged with that sucker (literally, it is a sucker) and I can't bring myself to do the math or I may start weeping at the vast number.
When you look at the results of all the hard work, though, who can argue?!?

 

As an aside, super-mega-fantastic-bonus points to my FIL who shoveled my walks this morning.  I was running late getting back to the house where I was meeting him after dropping off Dave. In his boredom he picked up a shovel and got to work.  I'm pretty sure this will only encourage me to be tardy in the future if it means these tasks will magically get done in my absence.  And, I may just linger in the alley until I'm sure it's all finished.