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Back when I first began nursing Devon I thought the whole process would be no big deal. I had already had two babies, nursed them for a few months and it was all good. What was the big deal? My milk would come in, he’d open up his toothless mouth and I would simply insert my boob and all would be well. Nope. No such thing. It was horrible. It hurt. I was scabbed. I cried everytime he nursed, and sometimes I thought mean thoughts about his endless appetite needs. So I went to see a lactation specialist who grasped my nipple in her fingers, shoved it into Devon’s mouth and called it good -and we wonder wear breast fixation originates. After that experience things picked up and all really was good. He slurped and suckled to his heart’s content and grew roly and poly. I though we could keep it up for a few months, do the switch to formula and call it done. But once Devon was diagnosed with his gimpy heart, the doctors said I should definitely nurse him for a year. So nurse him I did and I tried to wean him last fall. That was a fiasco which resulted in me flat out lying to people that he was indeed weaned and happy as hell about it. But the true Hollywood Story was a bit darker. In the night I continued to let him nurse willy nilly and every morning for the past 18 months I have gotten out of bed feeling as though my bones might break. I have often thought of kicking him off the teat, but when he curls up to me in the night and giggles at the sight of my breast I just haven;t been able to do it. But no more. Mai-Mai’s Night Kitchen is officially closed. I have not nursed Devon for the past two nights. And he doesn’t even give a damn, little fucker. He fusses a bit in the night but after I hug him and tuck him back into bed all is well. The only difference is that now he gets up and eats a hearty breakfast.
I, on the other hand, am suffering badly. My breasts currently rival Dolly Parton and Pam Anderson. They are so large that I even my biggest Big Girl bras are chump change for the pair. After 18 months of constant output, my front side is in shock. I do awaken feeling almost human and this more than makes up for the pain in my frontal region. I know it will subside and someday I can again pull out my petite C cups and enjoy undergarments that are not made to hols up 50 pounds of milk production. But in the meantime the heating pad and Motrin are my best friends.
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Caloden 
Omg, I so remember that. Ok, antihistamines will help you dry up, and buy cabbages, cut in half, and stick to your mammaries.
Comment by jen March 1, 2006 @ 5:15 amOh, GOD, I just got a shiver up my spine, becuase your post made me remember that weaning feeling!
I found ice packs to be more effective for me that the heating pad. I remember it took about 2 weeks each time for the milk factory to completely shut down production.
Hang in there!
Comment by L. March 1, 2006 @ 7:08 pmJen is right–cabbage leaves in your bra. You’ll never eat coleslaw again, but it will take the pain away.
And frozen peas (or corn) work well as ice packs, as they mold to the shape of your breasts. And then you can serve them for dinner!
With the coleslaw.
Comment by Susan March 3, 2006 @ 4:48 am