When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately knew that I wanted to breastfeed. I did my research. I bought what I thought I needed. I was looking forward to the weight loss that the internet associated with breastfeeding. I was ready. Or so I thought.
I definitely was not ready for what would happen to my breasts. Prior to pregnancy, I was a full 34C. At the height of my engorgement, I could barely fit into a 38E. At DragonCon,when Aryssa was 6 months old, I looked like a cartoon character. Finding clothes that fit properly was the hardest struggle for me. If it fit my breasts, the top or dress was too big everywhere else and made me feel like I looked larger than I was. If I found clothes that fit the rest of my body, I felt that my chest looked like it belong in a porn movie. Not to mention the stares and comments that I would receive. I definitely struggled with my new body shape. I still do. Since I stopped breastfeeding (about 5 months ago) my breasts have continued to decrease in size but are currently a 34DDD. Still crazy. I have told my husband that I am getting a breast lift next year to hopefully make them a little perkier.
Now lets talk about the weight loss. Or in my case, the lack of weight loss. While I was pregnant, every article I read talked about how breastfeeding would help will post partum weight loss. Nope. Nope. Nope. For the entire two years I breastfed, I stayed the exact same weight I was at 6 weeks postpartum. The same weight I was when my supply regulated (and I got my Mirena) Not sure which one is to blame for no weight loss since I only kept the Mirena for 6 months. Since we stopped breastfeeding I have lost 5 lbs (in 5 months). Ah well. I wasn’t one of the lucky ones.
As far as actual breastfeeding, we have no issues. Aryssa latched perfectly in the hospital. We fed on demand since I became a SAHM. And we continued to breastfeed up until her 2nd birthday. She started self weaning a few weeks prior to that and was only nursing to sleep at night. Once we cut it out completely, bedtime became 100 times easier and daddy could finally help.
And that leads into my other topic. Bottles. My daughter hated bottles. I think I tried every single bottle that is made to find one she would use. She hated them all. So for 2 years, I did not get much time for myself. The first year was the hardest since she wasn’t eating solid food yet. The second year gave me a little more space except for bedtime. I tried to pump so I could go out but I never got much output from pumping and once it was established that she would not drink pumped milk (or formula) I gave away my pump.
I breastfed Aryssa everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. Walking around Target. The Aquarium. Hockey Game. The Rodeo. DragonCon. Medieval Faire (Georgia & Florida). The Beach. And many many restaurants. I can honestly say that I never experienced any negativity or hostility during any of those times. I always wondered if I would and how I would react.
As much of a positive experience breastfeeding was for me and Aryssa, I am glad that phase of her development is over for us. I hated feeling isolated because she wouldn’t take bottle. I also felt I couldn’t complain about breastfeeding for 2 years because so many mothers could not. I am glad Daddy can now help with bedtime and we can do overnights at Grandma’s house.
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