The moos and woos of my rack

All my husband will remember from this post is that it's the first time I actually refer to our sex life on my blog. Sorry hon.

ANYWAY.

I am FINISHED with extracting milk. (Oh hello there; I'm talking about my breasts and nursing today. Sit down and try not to stare at them. My breasts.).

I've used the pump at least 500 times. Extracting every morning for Roo's cereal, extracting every night to keep the milk level up, extracting every time I came back home from work. Getting out that plastic Avent pump. Lift my shirt, my bra. Pump and wait until 'it gets going'. And then watch the little plastic bottle fill up, while I pump until the muscles in my hand started to cramp. Disappointed when there isn't enough to feed a baby ANT for a day, but HALLELUJAH, when the milk comes up to the little line that marked 200 ML (6.5 OZ). WHOOOAAAAAAAA. Like men after a day of fishing, catching the BIG FISH. Holding it up and taking he picture! LOOK.AT.THAT.

I AM SUPER MILK MOM. MOOOO.

Ecstatic when I screw the lid on the bottle and write TWO HUNDRED ML and the date on it.

Hold it up again. Smile. TWO HUNDRED. WHAZZAAAAAP.

Putting the bottle in the fridge, next to about 40 other bottles.

FORTY. An entire village in Africa could live a WEEK from my milk fridge.

Anyway, done with that.

What they don't tell you when you start breastfeeding, is that your breasts won't be yours while you breastfeed. Sure, they'll still accompany you wherever you go, and they will do their utmost best to fill up your bra. (Enjoy the latter while it lasts.)

They won't tell you that any sexual connection with your breasts will be gone during that period. While you may have been hunting for seductive bra's and sexy bustiers, no longer. When your breasts are your baby's primary source of nutrition, all that is sensual disappears the minute your fresh, still red & wet newborn finds his way to your nipples.

First, they get blown up by gallons of milk (blessing you with an overzealous cleavage). Next, they are thoroughly humiliated by obligatory nursing bras. In time, they won't be able to handle the shame and shrink away into what may at best be described as teabags.

My husband knows I will bite his head of when he so much as GLANCES at them. "Don't even THINK about it!" "THEY'RE ROO's, not YOURS!" I'll growl at him.

Any attempt of approaching them in a sexual kind of way, has banned sex out of the house for at least 24 hours.

There's only one human in the house who can set her little teeth (5 now) in my nipples;

She only bit me 2 or 3 times, but that was enough. Thankyouverymuch.

When Roo was born, I made a deal with her: nursing for one year. No formula. I still plan on nursing her for the remaining days to her first birthday this coming January 19th.. and for ever how long we'll both enjoy it after her birthday. But I'm guessing now, that will be days, maybe weeks but definitely not months.

I've thoroughly enjoyed every minute of nursing, both Roo and Monkey (almost 10 months). Despite everything written above, it has been the best experience ever. I'm proud of Roo and myself to have done this for a year. But the pump gets stored today. And I am looking forward to the day my breasts are mine again and I'll go shopping for lingerie. The girls deserve a new wardrobe.