Breastfeeding. Always on breastfeeding. When I went to Blissdom last week (yes, I’ll stop writing about it soon), my flow took a huge hit. Even though I pumped often.
And traveling home with a mini cooler full of milk bags? Jeez. Why on earth do officials have to get all antsy and uncomfortable about some breastmilk? At least that was my reception at the airport border crossing. Ah well, in the end the elderly dude was polite. While I couldn’t help thinking that he may just be of the type to ask a mama to nurse in the bathroom.
So, back on the home-front – I’ve had Lil’ Abner latched day and night. Pretty much constantly and we’re back on track. With as much as this body produces, anyways. Which means we are still having to supplement.
When in my hotel room, I repeatedly questioned myself as the heavy guilt set in. As less gold started to trickle out and the days went by with the milk bags feeling less and less full, rather than bursting-if-I-don’t-pump or nurse…shit. I questioned whether or not I was being selfish in taking such a risk with my milk production.
All for naught, all it took was a little extra hard work and all is well.
However. My mind and heart often hold me ransom in these ways. What if it didn’t come back? What kind of mother am I?
So. Instead of wasting any more time on that sort of mind f*@kery, it’s assuaging Ryan Gosling to the rescue. Y’all have obviously heard of the meme that has swept the nation.
Especially needed since I have been feeling like complete and utter crapola about my body these days. After the birth of my first – I worked like a demon to shed the pounds and tone up. This time? Not so much. I could list all the justifiable reasons as to why – but really. It’s like writing. I HAVE to make time for it. The exercise that is.
In the meantime, I bought a pair of jeans from Old Navy in a size outside of my comfort zone. The crux being that I refuse to constantly wear leggings or dresses…I miss the casual prowess that comes from donning a good pair of jeans.
I guess they look alright, but I’d be lying if I don’t look longingly at my slender 7’s and mavi’s. So if 9 pm onwards is my time to write…does that mean 5 am is my time to workout?! Because the days are so full with work, child-care and house-care that if I squeeze in anything else…well. Not a good idea.
Is this my new life? Trading even LESS sleep in exchange for achieving my healthy/body image and writing goals?
The answers, I don’t have them. Something tells me it’s simple, along the lines of suck it up and go to bed way late and wake up way early.
There you have them. My random, rabid thoughts of the day. Or pretty much any day. Breastfeeding woes and weight issues. The answer? Ryan Gosling memes. Obviously.
Top Image Photo Credit: Boba Family
Middle Image Photo Credit: Feminist Ryan Gosling
Bottom Image Photo Credit:
Hygeia Kate on Pinterest
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