Playboy: My Offer Is $1,000,000

I had been wrestling with the "to quit or not to quit" breastfeeding dilemma for several weeks, when last month I finally decided that the pros of quitting outweighed the cons, and marked TODAY my last day as Milk Provider.

Breastfeeding has been the thing that has surprised me most about being a mom. I underestimated how very emotional it is--for the first six weeks or so, I loathed it. It hurt literally worse than labor (thanks in no small part I'm sure to my epidural) and I was veritably red, raw, and bleeding. Finally, Ellen and I got the hang of it and then it became the source of the truest 180 my feelings have ever flipped. I was proud, empowered, and I really loved the bonding aspect, not to mention Ellen's adorable faces while she was doing it.

In the last few weeks, I came to believe that it was contributing to my inability to lose baby weight, was causing my hair to fall out, and though it was not directly making my skin break out, it certainly was preventing me from using all the things that curb this problem. For these reasons, I wanted to quit, but everytime I thought about ACTUALLY quitting, I cried.

But all good things must end, and today was the last day. I got a strong peel on my face to jumpstart the acne clear, and now the milk is no good. So it really is done. I cried through the last nursing.

But of course my boobs haven't gotten the memo. So the milk is in there. Milk from THREE missed feedings so far. Reference post title.