Baby, Motherhood, Mums

What a boob.

Where did my boobs go?

I swear I just spent around 18 months having a fairly decent pair for the first time in my life.

But, a couple of months after stopping breastfeeding my TJ, and my chest is pretty much back to being just nipple.

I’ve never been particularly gifted in that region. The irony is I was the first of my friends to get boobs at 11 years old. But, they stopped growing at 12 years old so I had to be happy filling an A cup.

During pregnancy and the months immediately following, when I combi fed my little man, I sported quite a rack. I loved it. I finally got that boob job from Mother Nature, and it was better late than never.

But now it’s gone again. I’ve had to sadly stash away the bigger bras in the hope one day they may fit again while I go back to the smaller varieties I had happily hidden at the bottom of my underwear drawer.

I suppose as they are small, least I don’t now have saggy boobs. But I don’t have any boobs at all.

Now I understand why women have more than one baby. It’s all about getting the boobs back…!

Motherhood, Mums

Packing a pump

Seven months ago, I faced the daunting task of wanting to breast feed my baby while I struggled with low supply and poor latch.

I’m sad to say I even wished some of the time away until TJ would be six-months-old and I could stop having the “breast is best” mantra echoing through my mind.

This meant hours of pumping, two sessions with a lactation consultant and many tears from both myself and TJ as we struggled to get it right.

But we got there after deciding to combi feed and we enjoyed many treasured and special times together while TJ fed.

Now, as the little man approaches eight-months-old, when he’s weaning well and my date back to work looms in the distance, the time has come to stop the feeds.

And I’m struggling with it. I’m sad it’s over.

I’ll always be glad I persevered with breastfeeding. It’s meant hours of unique and unforgettable moments where TJ lay in my arms, content and full.

(I’m not saying anything negative about formula whatsoever – we’ve used shed loads of the stuff!)

So, maybe I’m mourning the loss of my little newborn who gets bigger and stronger every day. Maybe I’m feeling guilty that I should keep up the feeds a little longer. Maybe I’m worried TJ will miss it as much as I will.

I’m not sure. All I do know it’s the right thing for us to do now for so many reasons.

Did any other breastfeeding mamas experience these mixed emotions?


There’s no point crying over spilt (breast) milk

Like most mums in a morning, I rush around trying to get a million jobs done. This morning, I tried to do too much and knocked over some expressed breast milk.

I have low supply so every drop of that stuff really is “liquid gold” to me and every bit I make is for TJ. Well, except for the 60ml I spent 20 minutes pumping out this morning.

I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to boost supply. I even begged my GP for some potentially questionable pills which are supposed to help (they didn’t).

But having had my heart set on breastfeeding ever since I did a wee on that little stick nearly a year ago, I’ve kept on trying.

So it’s a bit frustrating when all that hard work gets mopped up by kitchen roll!

Ah well, lesson learnt. Until next time I’m rushing around to get millions of jobs done at once of course.

Anyone else had problems with low milk supply? If so, any tips?


Road is tripping me out.

So it’s the first weekend away with TJ. We’re travelling the grand total of 90 miles for a friends engagement do (don’t worry, it’s a family friendly occasion)

For days I planned the packing in my head. It included every baby grow we own as well as two party outfits for him (for obvious reasons), something resembling a look for me which covers the mum tum and doesn’t have baby drool on it (yet) and the essential dry shampoo.

It’s only now half way there that I’ve also made a mental note to buy a non-electric breast pump. That’s because I have stuffed a muslin down my bra having left breast pads at home. I hope my fellow travellers on the M25 don’t see.

Wish us luck.