Serving doubles at the breastfeeding bar, straight up with a twist of peaceful parenting.
Alright. It’s time I write about this.
About being tired of breastfeeding.
So tired I was hating it. So tired… and no longer looking forward to it. How could all of me feel like “I love him and I love this” and “I don’t want this to stop yet,” but at the same time all of me worried about feelings of “I hate this.”
I wanted to feel normal again; I wanted to feel my breasts cry of milk instead of pain.
I went to a destination wedding this weekend in Charleston with my husband a.k.a. The Designated Dad (TDD) and our nursling MaiTai. The Bride and Groom are close relatives and TDD was the Best Man.
The first night I was excited to attend the rehearsal dinner. Shortly after arriving, I left briefly to use the bathroom. On my way back I was cornered — literally cornered — by the dinner’s host (another close family member). Let’s call him… Dinner Host.
“I need you to do me a big favor,” Dinner Host said. Ooh, exciting! I must be in on some kind of special surprise, I figured. Jokingly, I said, “Maybe, depends on the favor!”
Dinner Host’s face turned solemn and funereal. Something serious was afoot. Something dramatic. The thought actually crossed my mind if he was about to ask me to take someone to the Emergency Room.
“Holly,” he said. “I’m asking that if [MaiTai] needs to nurse tonight, that you go somewhere else. I know you’re very passionate about this, but honestly it isn’t the time or place.” Read More
Mama's Milk, No Chaser 