The Beginning of the End

When I started breastfeeding, I was wary of setting a goal for myself. Too many times I had seen mothers unable to keep going. Too many times I had see the absolute guilt that wracked them over having to wean to formula. I didn't want to set myself up for that kind of disappointment. So my "happy with myself" goal was three months. I wanted to make it until I went back to work. Work--and the pumping that goes along with it--would be a game changer. Going back to work came and went. I nursed baby girl during my lunch break. I am lucky and have my own office, with a door, so I was able to block off pumping times in my daily calendar and not have to worry about how, when, or where. All this time I was still waking up at midnight (even though baby girl had been sleeping through the night since eight weeks old) to get in one more pump. It all went to my freezer stash. I was paranoid about my supply tanking. I wanted to keep the "demand" up.

Six months came and went. I allowed myself to stop getting up at midnight to pump. I worked that pumping session backwards until I was just pumping to empty before heading to bed for the night. And we settled into a routine, a rhythm that has held for the last six months. I nurse her twice a day. I pump twice at work and once before bed. On weekends, it's glorious. I get to nurse her all day long, even if we're out and about. I've never had to worry about bringing milk along with us, keeping it cold, etc.

My supply has gradually slipped a bit here at work in the last month or two. Before I would pump 11 or so ounces at work in two sessions, and then another three or so before bed, to cover the 15 ounces she gets at school (two 6-ounce bottles and 3 ounces of breastmilk with her oatmeal for breakfast). Now I'm lucky if I pump eight ounces at work. It didn't matter though. My hard work in the beginning created a ridiculous freezer stash. So we've been dipping into that for about four ounces a day for a couple of months now.

Which brings us to now. A whole year. I surpassed any kind of goal, any kind of expectation I set for myself. I won't even begin to talk about the nursing relationship we developed, about my thoughts on breastfeeding my daughter. That's a whole other, much more emotional post. What consumes my thoughts now is the transition to other milk. The beginning of the weaning process. And it starts with my before-bed pumping session.

We have a couple of trips coming up in the next couple of months. The last thing I want to have to do is lug my pump with me and excuse myself to go pump somewhere private every evening, and then worry about where to store the milk. I am ready to not have to pump before bed. I've worked in one extra pumping session every day for a year now, and I'm ready to not have to do that anymore. So for the last couple of weeks, I've gradually cut back on the amount of time I pump at night. From 20 minutes down to 10, down to 8, 7, and now 5.

I can't tell you how difficult it is to turn off the pump when the milk is still flowing. I know it's what I have to do to train my body to drop that "feeding," but it goes against everything I've done for the last year. I have to literally not look at the pump, or the bottles filling slowly up, when I turn it off. I have to look the other direction, reach back with my hand, and turn off the pump abruptly, like ripping a bandaid off of a wound. And it makes me sad. Every night. Every time.

And I know it's just the beginning, the beginning of the end.

Eventually I'll drop the two daytime feedings so that I don't have to pump at work anymore, although I'm experiencing a lot of guilt over that, too. It's so easy. I have my own office. Really there's no reason not to continue to pump at work except for my own desire not to have to deal with it anymore. But then I think, that will always be the case. It will always be easy. I have to draw the line somewhere, right? And then I think about not being able to just nurse her on the weekends anymore, having to worry about other sources of milk, and I'm right back to feeling conflicted. BOTH options are convenient. Not having to pump at work? Convenient. Being able to just nurse her all day on weekends? Also convenient. I wish I could have it both ways.

Eventually, I'll only nurse her in the mornings and before she goes to sleep. I plan to hang onto those as long as I can.

I'm so proud and so thankful my boobs have provided so much, so consistently for my daughter. I am so blessed to have had the ability to nurse her as long as I have. Bear with me over the next few weeks/months as we see where the weaning process takes us.