boobs.

since my last two posts used the word “vagina” (well, make that three) i figure we’re probably pretty cool with each other and i can talk about boobs for an entire post.

which i am going to do.

i would say the hardest part about having these twins is feeding them. i never knew what the weight of breastfeeding held on a woman’s heart and soul. going into pregnancy and parenthood, all ryan and i were concerned about was making sure that the girls were fed by mom.

seemed easy and reasonable. that’s what moms do, right?

yes, if you’re blessed with full size babies and awesome boobs that spring into action when your child is born! and if you’re one of those moms — count your blessings. that’s something amazing and you “have it easy” (never mind all that sleep deprivation from your child(ren) eating every hour or two).

for the first couple days after the twins were born i tried to breastfeed. and in theory i thought i was being successful. until we realized that nothing was happening other than the girls giving me hickeys. i’ve never even gotten a hickey from a boy before, but here come these little babes and suddenly my boobs look like a slutty high schooler.

so the doctors basically banned me from breastfeeding and handed me a fancy yellow machine. “try pumping!” i did. and at first i thought “OH COOL. LOOKIE. I MAKE FOOD!” and then i was like “uh, this sorta sucks.” and then my milk came in and i was like “I AM AMAZING. I CAN DO ALL.”

(we also had to make the choice to start supplementing with formula which was something we adamantly didn’t want to do. unfortunately, the girls were losing too much weight because i wasn’t producing anything/enough)

boobs cause a roller coaster of emotion.

breast pumps cause a roller coaster of emotion. they are the reason that i am able to successfully feed my children as much as i am able to. my body has tapped out at producing enough food for a single child, so we are stuck supplementing. huge bummer, but they get as much milk as i can provide so we’re pretty excited about that.

breast pumps are also the reason for my rage. i hate pumping. why? because i have to do it every three hours to have food for the girls and to maintain my supply.

every three hours. i honestly feel like a slave to this little machine. my schedule is broken because it revolves around pumping. and can i pump before the girls wake up? or should i wait and pump after i feed them? which could take over an hour… which would put me at four hours before i pump again… the cycle is vicious.

and it’s a constant reminder that i’m not able to feed them “directly”. and a reminder that we still have to supplement. this is where the thoughts flood in that i’m not enough as a mother. emotionally, it breaks me.

but i haven’t quit or given up.

i have met with a lactation consultant and while there are steps i could take to achieve the girls actually breastfeeding, my mental sanity would be not only compromised — but completely shattered.

there is a delicate balance on doing the best you can for your children. sometimes the best thing you can do is keep yourself sane. and while i am a slave to the pump and hate it with every fiber of my being, i will not stop yet. because it provides what my children need right now. and as their mom, i must make the sacrifice.

there is an end to this. an end to their need to eat every three hours. an end to my having to pump every three hours. and with that knowledge comes the strength to continue to do this.

• babies
• breast pump
• breastfeeding
• emotion
• parenthood
• parenting
• twins