I cannot believe I am going to do this, but I am going to talk about milk, ONE MORE TIME. That’s it. Other than making a mention of when Belén is 100% on cow milk, I promise not to talk about milk again for the rest of the year.
Do you ever find yourself in a conversation about something and take a moment to view the conversation from the outside rather than simply participate in it? While doing that, do you ever hear yourself talking and get annoyed with yourself? That is TOTALLY how I feel about writing another milk post, the third in one week, in fact. If I am annoying myself, I must be annoying all of you. But…I know there are a couple of soon-to-be weaners so alas, despite my annoyance, I forge ahead…but it will be short.
Sunday afternoon I took Belén for a run in our Burley stroller. I am not used to doing this because Andy typically watches her while I exercise and vice versa. He was out of town and I desperately needed a workout, so the Burley it was. Since I wasn’t satisfied with the prospect of running on the boring ole road, I decided I need to try out the four-wheeling capabilities of our nifty jogging stroller.
Sixty eight minutes and only five miles later after pushing Belén plus stroller through the Boise foothills, we finally completed the trek. I rewarded Belén for her patience with an extra long swinging session at the park.
Not only was pushing that stroller and 22 lb. toddler up and over hills difficult on my quads but it was also worked my chest. So much so that the next morning I woke up and my chest hurt. But you see, I do not have very distinguishing pain receptors in my chest muscles and I can never seem to tell if a pain in my chest is a boob pain or a chest muscle pain. I cannot tell you the number of times I have literally tried to pull my boob away from my chest while poking the pain point to try and determine boob or muscle, boob or muscle? It normally wouldn’t matter so much, but after a week of not breastfeeding, my boobs were getting fullish, not engorged but on their way. And in my mind I equate engorged with clogged duct potential,…you see where I am going now right? I started to wonder if my chest pain was one or multiple clogged ducts starting to form.
On top of that, it was Monday morning and I had a ton of things to do that day and the last thing I wanted to deal with was a clogged duct. So, I thought, hmmmm, who better to help me with a clogged duct than the master clogged duct remover….Belén.
Laura commented in my second to the last milk-related post that Aiden looked at her like she was crazy when she tried to do one last breastfeeding hurrah after a week without it. I thought it was worth a try with my potential clogged duct and all.
I went into Belén’s room to get her out of her crib with my shirt off. I figured I would use her reaction to gauge if she was going to be interested or not. She did her little excited to eat noise and I thought, “allright, we will give it a go.”
She totally breastfed like it was no big deal, I was shocked! She emptied both boobs and it was really a relief. It also made me realize that my chest pain was due to sore chest muscles and even though the milk was ever-so-slightly uncomfortable, I was not engorged or building up clogged ducts.
And even though she didn’t seem to think the breastfeeding was strange after not doing it for a week, I have to say that I did, just a little. I think in my mind I was past that stage and I kind of felt like the college freshman who goes back to a high school dance with their younger girlfriend/boyfriend. For the record, despite having a younger boyfriend at that stage in my life I NEVER did go back to high school for a dance. Remember my discussion on being annoyed with myself? That would have thrown me over the top!
So that’s it. For. real. this.time. I am done breastfeeding this child. She has drunk her last human breast milk. Now we just need to get the final message out to my boobs, buy some new bras and we are good to go.
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