No I am not crazy and yes you should keep reading. Those who have had kids will know what I am talking about. These two rocks use to be my friends. Oh boy did we have fun together. However since having kids…. They are not as much fun as they use to be.
What rocks am I referring to you ask. I am talking about my boobs. Yes, my boobs. Before kids they were fun. If they were cooperating they would make or break an outfit. They were the centre of attention. They were the focus of many peoples attention. I was a dd then… When I breastfed I am a g/h.
Everyone talks about a post partum body but they never talk about their breasts. They were at one time fun, now they can cause me pain. When your baby misses a feeding or doesn’t need one all together (like Marcus sleeping through the night) they cause me pain. They turn into rocks. No I am not joking, they turn rock hard and hurt like no tomorrow. They are my rocks and I can’t just put them down.
Either I try to feed Marcus or pump. However you can only pump so much. Your body knows when and how much mill to produce. In turn if I pump too much and everyone they hurt I will continue to produce milk. I have to endure the pain and over a week or so I will stop producing that amount of milk. When this happens they can’t be touched or banged into. When going out to the mall or grocery shopping I have to leave a huge gap between me and other shoppers to ensure I don’t get hurt. Oh and cross out outlet shopping and one day only sales or be prepared for some pain.
My g/h’s have a mind of their own. They do what they want. They leak and squirt all over the place. There is no way I can’t wear a bra. I envy those that don’t have to live in a bra like I do. When I have a ton of milk I can shot it across the room. No joke, I have a good shot and pretty good aim too.
I have named them too. My right boobs name is “the producer” and my left is “second best”. I can pump 8 ounces on my right side when I am full. That is more than a 3 month old can eat in one feeding.
All this changes when I am not producing milk on demand anymore and another fun change occurs. My grandmother says that she flings her boobs over her shoulders to get them off the floor and I totally understand what she means. They go flat. Flat like Pancakes. Just think what once were fully blown up balloons now are deflated and shivered up like a balloon that was left for ages without being pooped.
Now that you have that image in your mind… See you next time.
Thanks for reading 🙂