I kissed pumping goodbye.

For the first two months of my son's life we had a routine. We woke up in the morning, I fed him, all the while stressing if he was getting enough and panicking about putting him down so I could go pump. He finished eating and I'd put him into the swing. I pulled out my trusty homemade pumping bra and hooked myself up to this tiny machine that nightmares are made of. I then sat for half an hour (or an hour if I power pumped) and let this thing suck my nipple into a tube over and over until they throbbed. I would continue this process after every feeding throughout the day. And repeat. Every. Single. Day.

When Jack was two and a half months old we moved to Oklahoma City and had to drive there. Obviously no way to pump. I cannot express the freedom I felt to only have to let my baby eat and not worry about pump parts and tubes and storage containers. For the first time I was able to truly focus on feeding my baby boy instead of thinking about dreading the upcoming pumping. After a few days I realized Jack was getting enough to eat and I wasn't engorged. I made the decision. I decided to pack the ole pink pump away and never look at her again unless I absolutely had to.

My supply has completely regulated to how much I need to feed him. No more, less. The body is an amazing thing! When it nears its expiration date, I donate my stored milk periodically to moms in need. I get to pay it forward after all of that donor milk Jack received in the NICU. I am so lucky and I know that. I recognize not everyone can cut the power cord like I did but if you can, do it! I've never felt more alive.

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