Breastfeeding: A Love Story

I've realized recently that my relationship with breastfeeding closely resembles that of a romantic comedy.  (Although I'm not sure if Katherine Heigl would play me or my breasts....conundrum.)

Starring Katherine Heigl as Summer's breasts

 Like most rom coms, when breastfeeding and I were first introduced, we couldn't stand one another.   I hated it to the point where I would cringe, cry, and throw temper tantrums every three hours when Madeline was ready to eat.  The only reason I stuck with it is because I'm as stubborn as a big toe.

Then, something happened.  I don't know when, or how, but breastfeeding and I became friends. We realized we wanted the same things, stopped fighting one another, and got busy feeding Madeline.

This is the part in the romantic comedy where there is a montage of our blossoming friendship.  We take long walks by the river.  We eat ice cream and wipe it off one another's noses.  We go shopping together.  We keep one another from drunk dialing our exes after long nights of karaoke.

But what really makes this a romantic comedy is the fact that I didn't realize how much I had grown to love breastfeeding until it was (almost) gone.  My supply is just about tapped out.

Going back to work took a real toll on our relationship.  There's not much time to pump in my day, and I worry that a student is going to knock on my door in the middle of the whole thing.  The door has a deadbolt, but I just don't feel comfortable.  I stopped pumping at work soon after returning.

Then the dreaded cat incident happened.  Both Maddie Bear and I were put on antibiotics, so I couldn't breastfeed her for an entire week.  I pumped as much as I could, but it wasn't enough.  Breastfeeding started to feel neglected.  True, I had taken it for granted, but I didn't expect it to just walk out on me like that.

Since then, our relationship has been strained.  I can feel breastfeeding slipping through my fingers.  When I was sick last week, my supply dropped again.  Now, I am down to nursing Madeline twice a day, but even then, I have to supplement with a bottle of formula in order to satisfy her growing appetite.

I know I could try really hard to repair our relationship, but there just doesn't seem to be time in the day.  When am I going to fit in extra feedings?

Which makes me realize that this story isn't a romantic comedy at all.  I can't give breastfeeding a long, romantic speech on New Year's Eve about how I want to spend the rest of my life with it, and expect that will just fix all our problems.  No, our story is a tearjerker romance a la The Way We Were or A Love Story.  (Maybe Barbara Streisand should play my chest??)  

Maybe this would be better casting??

In short, I'm really glad I stuck with breastfeeding instead of giving up in those early, frustrating days.  Now that breastfeeding is breaking up with me, I realize that I've grown to love it.  It did, in fact, turn out to be a wonderful bonding experience between me and my child.  At least I'll always have those misty, water-colored memories...