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Giving Up

1
I’m in the process of giving up and it is so bloody hard.  Not alcohol, or class A drugs, not even coffee or chocolate.  Nope, I am giving up breastfeeding.

Now maybe ’giving up’ is the wrong phrase.  For someone as competitive as me, anything called giving up is going to irk me, but I know that there is more to this.

My first son breastfed like a dream.  From the moment he was born until about 9 months he fed anywhere, anyhow, never refused, never went on strike and it always sent him to sleep.

My daughter refused the boob the moment

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that I offered her a bottle.  She was 3.5 months and it crushed me, but literally nothing I did could tempt her back and after a month of trying and crying and pumping I gave in.  We were about to move to San Francisco and the idea of pumping on the plane was just too much!

Now Otis has been a mixed bag.  He fed immediately after being born and although my milk was a little delayed coming in and the poor sod had to have his tongue tie snipped, he soldiered on and for 5 months we had a blissful feeding relationship.

Then came his first feeding

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strike.

He wasn’t yet weaned, and therefore I had no other way of getting any sustenance in to him and he refused anything (boob or bottle) for 24hrs.  To stop him from getting too dehydrated I had to use a pipette to feed him pumped breastmilk.  He pretty quickly went back to it though, but it was enough to set me in to a right old panic and the stress meant that I lost my let-down.  I was still producing milk, my body just wouldn’t let it down.  THE MOST FRUSTRATING THING EVER

Now, lots of (un)helpful people told me that it was just a

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4
change in my body and that all was probably fine, but I KNOW my body and I can feel a let down every single time and I also have one very consistent tell tell sign.  When feeding from one side, the other side spontaneously leaks – always has, always will.

So, what followed was a manic search for fenugreek (easy to find) and domperidone (not so easy, but managed to get some from Mexico), along with pumping and feeding as often as possible, whilst also continuing to function as a mum of 3.  Stressful, but it worked and although every now and then I

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lose the let down again, we have carried on for a further 2 months.  Until now…

Now I have a very big 7 month old baby, with 4 very big teeth and an interest in the world around him which means that generally he will only feed if we are alone and inside the house, which is pretty much never.  So, I have decided that enough is enough, the biting and pulling and flailing around whilst I sit in public or just on the sofa with my nipples out will have to stop.

It’s the sensible decision and I know for me and all 3 kids the right one, yet it still

SelfishMother.com
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feels so hard.  I love breastfeeding, I love the closeness, I love the ease, I love sitting staring as his podgy cheeks whilst he is gulping away, I am proud of the fact that for 6 month this gorgeous and enormous baby grew and thrived on milk I alone produced. So I am sad to give it up and lose that amazing bond between us.  But, there have been one too many bites, one too many refusals and when I found myself getting cross with my daughter and telling her to go downstairs on her own so that I could feed Otis in peace (she is only just 2) I knew that
SelfishMother.com
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we had come to the end of the road.

So I am starting the process and introducing bottles and in a few weeks expect to have fully stopped.  There will probably be some tears, I know that he is my last baby so I will never get to share that amazingly special time again, but I also know that I will gain some freedom, my husband will be able to feed Otis which he has been very patiently waiting to do and I will stop shooing my daughter away and flashing my nipples in parks, beaches and cafes around San Francisco.

To all the feeding Mums out there,

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breast or bottle, through choice or necessity, I salute you – we are all just doing the best by our babies and the best is to be fed and loved and for everyone to be happy!
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- 16 May 17

I’m in the process of giving up and it is so bloody hard.  Not alcohol, or class A drugs, not even coffee or chocolate.  Nope, I am giving up breastfeeding.

Now maybe ‘giving up’ is the wrong phrase.  For someone as competitive as me, anything called giving up is going to irk me, but I know that there is more to this.

My first son breastfed like a dream.  From the moment he was born until about 9 months he fed anywhere, anyhow, never refused, never went on strike and it always sent him to sleep.

My daughter refused the boob the moment that I offered her a bottle.  She was 3.5 months and it crushed me, but literally nothing I did could tempt her back and after a month of trying and crying and pumping I gave in.  We were about to move to San Francisco and the idea of pumping on the plane was just too much!

Now Otis has been a mixed bag.  He fed immediately after being born and although my milk was a little delayed coming in and the poor sod had to have his tongue tie snipped, he soldiered on and for 5 months we had a blissful feeding relationship.

Then came his first feeding strike.

He wasn’t yet weaned, and therefore I had no other way of getting any sustenance in to him and he refused anything (boob or bottle) for 24hrs.  To stop him from getting too dehydrated I had to use a pipette to feed him pumped breastmilk.  He pretty quickly went back to it though, but it was enough to set me in to a right old panic and the stress meant that I lost my let-down.  I was still producing milk, my body just wouldn’t let it down.  THE MOST FRUSTRATING THING EVER

Now, lots of (un)helpful people told me that it was just a change in my body and that all was probably fine, but I KNOW my body and I can feel a let down every single time and I also have one very consistent tell tell sign.  When feeding from one side, the other side spontaneously leaks – always has, always will.

So, what followed was a manic search for fenugreek (easy to find) and domperidone (not so easy, but managed to get some from Mexico), along with pumping and feeding as often as possible, whilst also continuing to function as a mum of 3.  Stressful, but it worked and although every now and then I lose the let down again, we have carried on for a further 2 months.  Until now…

Now I have a very big 7 month old baby, with 4 very big teeth and an interest in the world around him which means that generally he will only feed if we are alone and inside the house, which is pretty much never.  So, I have decided that enough is enough, the biting and pulling and flailing around whilst I sit in public or just on the sofa with my nipples out will have to stop.

It’s the sensible decision and I know for me and all 3 kids the right one, yet it still feels so hard.  I love breastfeeding, I love the closeness, I love the ease, I love sitting staring as his podgy cheeks whilst he is gulping away, I am proud of the fact that for 6 month this gorgeous and enormous baby grew and thrived on milk I alone produced. So I am sad to give it up and lose that amazing bond between us.  But, there have been one too many bites, one too many refusals and when I found myself getting cross with my daughter and telling her to go downstairs on her own so that I could feed Otis in peace (she is only just 2) I knew that we had come to the end of the road.

So I am starting the process and introducing bottles and in a few weeks expect to have fully stopped.  There will probably be some tears, I know that he is my last baby so I will never get to share that amazingly special time again, but I also know that I will gain some freedom, my husband will be able to feed Otis which he has been very patiently waiting to do and I will stop shooing my daughter away and flashing my nipples in parks, beaches and cafes around San Francisco.

To all the feeding Mums out there, breast or bottle, through choice or necessity, I salute you – we are all just doing the best by our babies and the best is to be fed and loved and for everyone to be happy!

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Californian living British mum of 3

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