…gets hard, I tend to panic.
Not to anyone but myself and Rich.
I start thinking that I need to be doing more.
Currently it is that I need to go to school. I want to learn how to web design, but don’t want to leave my babies to go do it. So online would be the only possible way.
Which is fine, Rich has no problem with me going back to school.
Anytime a big decision happens, I panic. I revert to what I want to do, instead of focusing on what I should do.
I’m *stressed* about Arlo’s surgery.
I’m *stressed* about quitting pumping.
- 2000oz frozen in the freezer
- 1 round of mastitis and antibiotics
- countless times of pumping and rocking a screaming baby all because I didn’t plan ahead
- chapped and bloody nips
I’ve called it quits. I’m battling with myself. I told myself that I would pump for 6 months, that I would be able to pump enough to have 6 months frozen. I haven’t done that.
I waffle between saving my own sanity, and knowing the breastmilk is best.
I go from the extremes of knowing that he will have breastmilk for 6 months, and that I did an amazing job at providing it for him. To thinking that I have failed because I did not give him the same amount of breastmilk that his brother got. I feel like I am putting my own needs before his. I feel like I am being selfish.
I know I am not. I know I have done the best that I could do.
But I still want to cry.
I want to curl up in a ball and weep.
This is undoubtedly the hardest decision I have ever made.
And it hurts.
Bye bye pump.