Conflicted

There are plenty of invasive questions people love to ask pregnant women. Are you planning a natural childbirth? How much weight have you gained? Do you have a birth plan? Do you plan on breast feeding? All questions are a trap and are inevitably followed up with the asker's remarkable tale of their symptom-free pregnancy where they gained 7 pounds and vaginally delivered (didn't even need stitches!) a perfect baby that was walking and talking by 6 months. Oh, and the breast fed this little miracle until it was 2 with no complaints. It was their baby's gift to them.

You will then choke down the vomit that has accumulated in your own mouth, smile politely, and walk away feeling like a total parental scumbag.

I was prepared for how difficult the whole parenting thing would be what with the sleepless nights and the abundance of free flowing bodily fluids, but I had no idea how difficult the exterior pressures of parenthood would be. Mind you, I have a select group of friends that I actually appreciate their advice and respect their opinions. Then there's "the others". The ones that tell tales similar to the ones above. That make you feel guilty when, say, you mention you might be considering quitting breast feeding. They tell you that you will regret it and that formula is poison and basically insinuate that your child will have a seat reserved on the short bus should you discontinue your feeding services.

Yes, I am considering quitting breast feeding. Don't get me wrong. I LOVE breast feeding (rare instance where there is no sarcasm). I love the closeness, it's really easy, it's readily available, and I get 500 EXTRA CALORIES A DAY! It's the pumping I hate. Hate might actually be not strong enough of a word. I loathe it. It hurts a bit, it takes quite a bit of time (and then you still haven't even fed your child), it's cumbersome, there's all the parts to clean, and it makes you feel like a cow. There is nothing sexy about pumping. And I find myself pumping anywhere from 2-4 times a day. It's the last thing I do at night and the first thing I do in the morning. AND, I am starting to get this bizarre hand cramping thing from "supporting" myself while I am feeding her. Yes, these puppies require some manipulation that is resulting in pain and weakness in my hands. It doesn't seem like much, but try sqeezing an orange (or a bag of pudding, depending on the time of day) for an hour each day for four months. It's either from that or from overuse of the iPhone. Maybe I will google it on my phone and see. After I am finished playing Book Worm.

While I am thankful that pumping has allowed me to return to work and still provide breast milk for Annie, I think we have reached that point in the relationship where we are more annoyed than appreciative and are ready to part ways.

Thankfully, I have a bit of a stockpile that will assist in the weaning process, so that's reassuring. I will miss the closeness, but it's not like all of a sudden strangers off the street are going to be feeding our child (but now they could, if I was so inclined-YAY!). I am sad that if we don't have any more children that I won't ever have this experience again, but I also fear that if I keep this up, I won't be able to lift that second child with my crippled from breast feeding/iPhone hands. I realize it will take a few weeks to wean her and given the willpower I demonstrated with my swaddle weaning, it will probably take me another 2 months to actually do this, but I think this human chuck wagon is about to be closed for business.