75 Days

I've been promising Will for awhile now that we would book a trip for just the two of us once I was done pumping. Well, tonight we booked our flights and hotel- a celebratory "no more pumping" trip to Grand Cayman in July.  We leave in 75 days. The boys will be just shy of 13 months old, and our plan has been to wean me off pumping and have them on cow's milk by 13 months. That means my days of being chained to my pumping machine for hours a day are very numbered. And instead of being ecstatic about this, for some reason I'm sitting here weeping (while pumping, of course!).

My babies are less and less baby-like every day. They enjoy solids more than their bottles now, they have teeth, they are "talking" and using sign language and you can tell how much they comprehend these days. Sometimes when I look at them I see more little boy faces than baby ones. The bittersweet truth is that they don't really "need" me any longer. Yes, they'll always need their mama, I get that. But for the past nearly 19 months I've been the main nutrition provider for them. I ate (and ate and ate) while they were in utero to keep them growing and have spent literally hundreds, if not thousands, of hours over the past 10 months listening to the methodical pumping sounds from my machine to provide them with breast milk. Knowing that there's a finish line in sight signifies, for me, the end of an era. 

Some people would think it's easy to pump- after all all you do is just sit here and let a machine do a lot of the work. Let me be the first to say- pumping sucks. It's not a walk in the park, it's not relaxing in any way at all. Dedicating myself to providing breast milk for our boys has been a huge sacrifice in many ways. The noise of the machine literally drives me insane some days. I pump a lot of milk at each session so I can't even zone out and close my eyes for a few minutes. I have to be at the ready to switch out the bottles, unless I'd like to clean up a bed full of milk overflow. Exclusively pumping means I didn't get to "bond" with the boys while they nursed; instead I mostly sit secluded in a room alone while Will is with the boys or while they sleep. Speaking of sleep, I get way less sleep because I have to wake early to pump before I leave for work and stay up later to pump before bed. It's not just tough on me, either. Will has had to sacrifice a lot, too. He often has to deal with the boys alone even when I'm home because I have to pump. We rarely have a chance to spend any alone time together because as soon as the boys are down for the night, I have to hook up and pump. And by the time I'm done with that, I'm exhausted and ready for bed. I literally have debates in my head about the pros/cons of staying up past my usual bed time to spend time with Will. It's sad to admit, but more often than not, sleep wins out over hubby time. Because even if I stay up late to watch a movie, my wake up time doesn't change. So hanging out after the boys go to bed = less sleep for me. Will is very understanding and supportive, but at the same time he's vocal about wanting to spend some time with me as his wife, not just the babies' care partner.

I have had to deal with a whole new set of wardrobe issues thanks to pumping. There are only so many outfits to wear to work that allow for easy access to pump. Shirts can look very different on me depending on the time of day. And you have to choose your fabrics wisely. I was finally able to put on a sports bra for the first time in almost 2 years last week...and even then it was a little too tight. And the dishes. Oh, the dishes are never ending. Constantly washing and sterilizing pumping parts. Constantly packing and putting together a pumping bag for road trips and work. It never. ends. Pumping dictates our schedule now more so than even the boys' feeding/napping schedule. It is a constant obstacle/issue to be dealt with, especially when trying to leave the house for a longer period of time. I have had to pump in the car on the interstate, standing up at sinks in random public restrooms, in empty office spaces while at work functions, and while working at my desk. I've dealt with painful engorgement, bleeding and cracked nipples, clogged milk ducts, and leaky boobs.  All this to say that I should be joyful about giving it up!

But I'm just not. As crappy as it's been for me, it's been wonderful, too. I began my journey 10 months ago just hoping I could help supplement the boys' formula supply with my own milk. I was hopeful, but not really expecting that I could be their sole source of nutrition. I am so freaking proud to say that I did it. By the time I finish my last pump, I will have successfully breast fed TRIPLETS for a whole year with my own milk supply. I produce enough milk every day to feed all three, and have a freezer full of frozen milk for the days when we need it. In doing so I have saved our bank account thousands and thousands of dollars that we would have had to spend on formula. Because formula is expensive, but formula for triplets is shockingly expensive. I also have to remember that these moments are fleeting. In 75 days, I'll be done pumping for good. Knowing that these babies are my ONLY babies makes it that much harder to accept that they're growing up too quickly, and that my time providing nourishment for my children is coming to a close. Forever.

Pumping has helped me drop almost 100 pounds since the boys arrived. Yes, nearly 100 pounds gone, and I'd say that 90% of that weight loss is due to pumping. I still eat like I'm pregnant with triplets and drink well over 100 ounces of water a day to help with my supply, so it's certainly not my diet that is helping me lose weight! Pumping around 100 ounces of milk each day helps me burn almost 2000 calories just by "sitting here". So even if I don't have time to work out, I'm still getting a work out in. Pumping has taught me valuable lessons in discipline. Never in my life have I been so dedicated to a task. There have been so many days when I've wanted to skip or shorten a pump so I could get more sleep, sit on the couch and do nothing, spend time with Will, or cuddle with a baby or two, or three. But I knew that skipping a pump could jeopardize my supply so I would make it a priority and take care of business. It's taught me to be more selfless (even if I complained about it along the way). But I think most of all it's taught me a valuable lesson about motherhood. I want what's best for our children and would do anything for our babies' well-being. As tough as it's been, it's been worth every bit of the sacrifice to know that I have provided the best possible nourishment for our kids. 

I'm sure I'll shed many, many (many) more sad tears over the next 75 days, especially when I pump for the last time, ever. Like, ever, ever. But I am grateful that Will and I will have a week together to celebrate such a HUGE accomplishment for our family. And celebrating on an island, with an endless supply of fruity cocktails, no pumping supplies to drag around, and no early morning wake up calls will make it that much sweeter.