Pump up the jam

Christian hasn't tried a boob since 2005. I finally gave up trying to breastfeed because it got to the point that every time I tried, he would scream his head off like if I were shoving a sword down his throat. I didn't want him to associate feeding time with evil-woman-shoving-boob-down-my-throat time, so I just decided to become best friends with the breast pump instead. Well, with friends like that...who need enemies? It hurts like a mother a bit at the beginning, but you get used to it. The real stickler though is that it is awfully boring. I usually just stare off into space wondering random thoughts (Am I wearing clean underwear? Where IS the beef? Why is there a goat in my office?).

My supply has diminished considerably...it's my own fault I guess...because I don't pump as often as I should (8 times a day!!!...Who has time for that?).Sometimes I wonder why I should even continue because now I'm only getting about an ounce per pumping session (15 minutes), but then I see that face every day and am instantly reminded of why I go through the hassle; because he's worth it.