With Gwen’s first birthday comes a lot of excitement around these parts. January 14th represents a day of freedom from the bonds of the breast pump for me. A day I wasn’t quite sure I was going to make it to, a day that I have only dreamed about for the past year.
You see, as I’ve said before and whined about plenty, I’ve been strapping into a milking machine 3 to 4 -half hour (sometimes hour) intervals throughout the day. When she was a newborn and I was panic-stricken and terrified I was pumping 8-10 times which included late night/early sessions. So you can see where my clear hatred for this machine lies.
When it comes time to wean that little girl, you will probably hear a joyous cheer radiating from the Sunderland household. It means no washing pump parts multiple times a day, not having to dress appropriately for pumping (read, nursing tank tops), not having to worry about milk expiring, not having to wash bottles and lids, not having to shut the blinds because I’m running around the house with no shirt on. I could go on, but I think I just crossed a line that can't be undone.
I feel like a kid waiting for summer break to start, the clock slowly ticking until I can burst forth through the doors, breast pump in hand wandering around confused about what to do with all my newfound free time. Can't wait!
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