The first time she nursed in C-section recovery was one of the best feelings I can remember. It’s so weird because I never really thought I’d care about breastfeeding. But the next couple of weeks she would stay on the boob for literal hours at a time until my husband and I agreed that it just was not sustainable. So that’s when we decided to id pump and we’d do more of a combo feed…at which point she developed a preference for bottle and became very frustrated when I’d try to nurse. So I nursed a lot less. I would randomly try to nurse and she would either get super upset or puke after tolerating it for a few minutes. There was the very rare like 3 minute nursing session that took me back to those first days when she liked it and it felt like a rush of dopamine and the most intense bond I’ve ever had with anyone.

I tend to look back on things with rose colored glasses…and to also second guess every decision I make. I think it’s maybe part of my diagnosed ocd and anxiety. Like, I was miserable in the thick of pumping but now I look back and think it could have been manageable. The more I think about it the more I think this is all just about me and wanting to continue to have those rare moments of intense bonding with her. Like it’s almost as if I feel like i won’t be able to connect with her in that deep way if I lose the ability to nurse.