There's a lot of stuff that happens every single day that cause me to have the thought "remember to write about that in the blog". Then, I forget promptly because my mind is primarily filled with to do lists which include things like 1) pump 2) feed L 3) feed big kids 4) change diaper 5) play with L until she falls asleep 6) try to drink water, urinate, defecate, shove some kind of food that requires no preparation into my mouth, take shower, fold the laundry, return phone calls, pay attention to D and E, wash dishes, start making next meal, wash pump parts and pump again before L wakes up 7) repeat cycle and add in 20-30 hours of work a week with a mixture of anxious, irate, excited families and kids who are waiting to finally be a family and are depending on YOU to hurry up and get the job done, trying to maintain relationship with my partner, sleeping, volunteering, getting the big kids to school and play dates and activities and playing hockey on Sunday.

It may sound like I am complaining, I am not trying to complain. This crazy schedule is totally of my construction. I don't have to do things like play hockey or pump every four hours. I've received "permission", even encouragement ,from everyone whose opinion matters on the subject to STOP THE PUMPING MADNESS. But for some reason, I persist. I finally freaked a couple of weeks ago after multiple hour to two hour long pumping sessions/hot showers/steaming washcloths to unplug the excruciating pain of blocked milk ducts which appeared to be giant golf ball deformities. Since L was born I have not been able to hug people properly, have a shirt or towel touch my nipple or go more than 30 minutes or so without eye watering glass shard slicing burning and piercing pain in my breasts. At my 6 week post partum appointment my OB said "everyone has pain associated with breast feeding." So I tried not to be wimpy and went on pumping. At some point around eight weeks, I stopped even trying to get her to latch. She latched for about five minutes once after the tongue clipping and it didn't hurt like it had before with the crazy chomping, but by that time I don't think L associated the breast with feeding. Each attempt concluded with screeching, clawing at my hypersensitive nipple region, and a lap filled with at least a cup of milk that started to flow from my ample bosom every time I lifted my shirt.

So rewind to my breakdown a couple of weeks ago when I decided I could no longer stand the pain. I went on the Internet and started reading about blocked ducts, which are more common when you contract thrush in your milk ducts. I read the list of symptoms which included something like "intense pain described by some women as fire hot pokers or crushed glass inside of the breast." That's me. Suddenly, my need to make it stop was urgent. I went to the doctor the next day. More incredulous commentary by the nurse regarding the silly act of pumping when breast feeding fails. Got some anti-fungal medicine that I need to take for a MONTH. Decided to feed L large stash of frozen milk while I continued to pump and then discard the medicated milk. I think the thrush has pretty much cleared but I get blocked ducts almost on a daily basis. My milk supply is out of control. I guess this is a mixed blessing as many people have production problems. Some people told me that exclusively pumping would not sustain my milk supply. They were wrong. I could pump all day long and they would never be empty. I have recently had to pump in the closet of the Department of Human Services in Toledo during a meeting.

So, why in the hell do I continue to pump? I have a few theories. 1) I don't want to TOTALLY fail at breast feeding 2) I am too cheap to buy formula especially when my body could feed 20 babies for free 3) I am stubborn and apparently like to torture myself for the sake of accomplishing something I set out to do 4) It's still better for L than formula.

OK, enough about my breasts.