You have become quite the fuss bucket and weeks 8 and 9 have been quite a doozy. I noticed some things though and it's kind of hard to admit: I don't like breastfeeding as much as I thought. Or like, kind of at all. Don't get me wrong, you and I have quite a special bond. You won't calm down for anyone but me. And dislike very much taking a bottle and really don't like transitioning between the two.
It's so exhausting being the only source of food and comfort for you. Joey was exhausting but in a different way. I could take a break once in a while. Now I can't even take a shower without an interruption: "John needs you."
I mean it's been 9 weeks and I still don't have one pair of jeans that fit. I can't go to the store for an hour to find a pair of pants without intense planning and Vegas- like luck on my side.
I hate pumping. Especially at work. It just seems so dirty. And the set up and tear down and washing and storing everything. Ew. I have to keep my precious milk in a dirty, nasty, mold-filled community fridge. Barf.
Maybe it's because it's winter, but I hate having to expose myself to feed you. It's cold! And I'm not comfortable feeding you in front of people either. It's awkward even with Joe.
Everyone says it gets better and I'm going to hold out a while longer (3, 4 months) and then make a decision but maybe I liked bottle feeding more than I thought.