I have loved breastfeeding. Big guy and I have had some bumps along the way. My milk didn't come in for a few days. Big guy lost a lot of weight in the beginning which took lots of pumping and some formula those first two weeks to get him to a good place. Nursing strikes. Tender nips. Engorgement. But we have had the best time- the snuggling, the sleepiness, spending all that time together, knowing I can provide what he needs for nourishment. It's a totally awesome experience and I'm so gad I've been able to do it.
Pumping on the other hand sucks. There is no snuggling. Instead, a pump that doesn't do as good a job as big guy and an annoyingly loud noise- it's two fold. Sometimes I make up words to go along with the noise. Most often I'm chanting in my head. Jive-ho. Jive-ho. Jive-ho. People knock all the time on my door trying to break-in. Ok, not really, but what is it with knocking and then trying to walk into doors. Doesn't that defeat the knock if you are just goig to bust in.
I've felt rushed this week. Admittedly, it's nice to close my door twice a day for 20 minutes and either answer email, google chat, or make phone calls. But this week has been busy. Today, I started early. 7 minutes in, a knock. Gimme a few minutes. then, the f!@# fire alarm goes off! really? really?
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