If you give a mom a (lactation) cookie…

Even before my son was born, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. While I didn’t know a ton about it, what I did know made it feel like the right choice for my family. I even remember thinking how lucky I would be if I could be an overproducer. I thought it would be really fulfilling to be able to have so much milk on hand that I could donate to help out other mamas. I had friends who had done it and I thought that it was such a beautiful gift.

After Everett was born, it took a bit to get the hang of breastfeeding. I definitely had one boob that produced more than the other (we affectionately called her “left shark”), but I wasn’t overproducing. In fact, once I went back to work and started pumping, I worried about making enough milk to keep up with what E was consuming while he was at the sitter.

There was a lot of anxiety surrounding my pumping experience, but production was a big contributor, especially as we neared the end of our mama milk journey. Early on, I had had a good freezer stash started, but had to get rid of it when we found out that E had a dairy sensitivity. It was devastating, and I thought about it every time I pumped just enough. Surely, if we hadn’t had to get rid of that stash, I wouldn’t be so anxious—right?

Recently, I posted in my Facebook group and on Insta about my current breastfeeding struggles with my daughter. She only nurses well at night; during the day, she sobs when I lay her down to nurse. When she latches, she is on/off every few seconds, no matter how full I feel. It felt like she was constantly rejecting me and it really began to take a toll on me—so much so, that I was on the brink of quitting completely. I had two IBCLCs tell me that things would get better, so I constantly felt like I was doing something wrong since it was getting worse instead. Finally, I started seeing our favorite IBCLC, Molly, who suggested that I pump and bottle feed during the day. She pointed out that just as it was creating frustration and anxiety around feeding for me, it was likely also doing so for my daughter. I took her advice, and within a week, I felt lighter, happier, and less anxious.

On this pumping journey, I find myself on the overproducing end of the spectrum—the place I so desperately wanted to be just two short years ago  

But here’s the thing.

I’ve found that this end of things has its own anxieties. For me, it goes something like this: on average, my pumping sessions yield about twice what my daughter eats in a feeding. So I’ve built a great freezer stash. So great, that it has taken over the entire freezer. So great that we needed to get a chest freezer to hold it all (shout out to Becky and Joe for coming to the rescue!). And while all that seems wonderful, every time I open the freezer and see all of the milk, I am reminded that my daughter won’t reliably nurse. I am reminded of all the times she sobbed at the breast—all the times I sobbed right along with her. I thought I was doing everything right, this second time around, but still, it wasn’t going well. And every time I have to freeze another bag of milk, I am reminded of that. It feels more like a failure than a victory when I look at my stash. Every time I have to buy more milk storage bags, I feel panicky, because OMG didn’t we just buy these two weeks ago?! And then I start doing panic math, which never amounts to anything good (a little math humor there for you.)

Could I donate? Sure…but what if something happens and I need that milk? What if my supply suddenly drops? I asked Molly for advice on how to produce less when I pumped, all the while feeling guilty because I know how many women struggle to produce enough. (Hello again, anxiety.) Molly said to pump just about equal to what baby girl takes in a feeding and stop. Makes total sense, but…I can’t.

Because what if.

So I’ve started pumping for less time— which is actually nice when I’m at work, because pumping can be terribly isolating. And it’s also nice at home, because it makes it much more manageable to balance with the kids. However, it almost seems like my boobs have decided they need to be more efficient since there is less time—which means I’m still getting quite a bit of milk. (And thus, the anxiety cycle starts all over again).

I am hoping to be back to full time breastfeeding by summer. In the meantime, I wanted to keep it real with you. I know I’m not alone in this, and I wanted to remind you that neither are you.