Final Countdown Begins

Sick of the titty-talk yet? Too bad, because really, pumping is a major part of my work day. If I spend 30-45 minutes per day, that's like ... two and a half hours per week that I'm in here, all alone, trying to feed my child. Which means in the last five months since I got back from maternity leave, I've spent at least 3000 minutes pumping. Wow. You know what I could do with an extra 50 hours of my life?

Sleep.

And now, as of right now, I only have eight more days to go. I haven't decided yet if I will actually pump on her birthday. Maybe not. Because if I'm still only sqeezing out an ounce per day (thanks tequila!) it's not really worth it. And since I'll have to use up the freezer supply getting her used to regular milk, may as well start sooner than later, right. Right?

I am immensly proud of myself for pumping this long. I can't even tell you how many times I wanted to quit, though of course I blogged about it a lot, but on almost a daily basis I was frustrated with the process, with the results, and I had to set a very clear end to the suffering in order to be able to make it through.

Two more weeks.

I don't think I'll miss it. I'll still be nursing four or five times a day when I'm at work, and seven or eight when I'm home with her. I'll be able to take this grid paper off my office window and see outside during the day. I'll be able to bring plants into my office and not have them shrivel up and die from lack of sunlight. I'll have a whole 'nother corner of my desk to decorate once the pump is gone. And I'll have the self-satisfaction that my child never had formula. Not that in the scheme of things it makes a difference, but to me it was important, to my budget it helped a hell of a lot too.

So yay! And now I'm really going to buy some shoes, because I'm wearing my funky-ass black sneakers from Payless that I bought while I was working at MERVYN'S and they such. They are ungly. And I want new shoes as a present for myself for my birthday.