I Quit

It wasn’t giving up, really. I’ve been complaining for a long time now about the travails of daily pumping at work, but I couldn’t pull the trigger.

This was pretty much because Jameson was still nursing in the morning. It was a pleasant wake up, one of the few times he completely relaxed into my arms. He’s very active, and when he’s tired he just wants to be laid down in his crib to fall asleep by himself. Not a lot of rocking or swaying for this guy anymore. You may think that is lucky, but mostly now I just think it’s sad.

Then one day, at my parents house, it was the last day, and we didn’t even know it. That was probably was for the best. On Sunday, August 7 we nursed for the last time.

Monday, he started biting me. He wouldn’t stop, it seemed like he just was going to continue. We tried Tuesday and Wednesday, and he kept biting. Mr. Jameson is a chewer and gnaw-er of all things. He puts everything in his mouth. I suppose it’s only natural that he try to chew me like he can chew his sippy cups and bottles and toys.

So, it seems like he chose it himself, and that was the anti-climatic end of breastfeeding.

I continued to pump at work and once at home. I told Brian I wanted to quit, again and again. Pumping is not particularly a happy experience, and I had finally had enough. I suppose I was looking for validation from him that it was okay to stop, that I had finally done enough. Jameson is healthy, he takes formula without issues, there was no reason other than the ongoing health benefits to continue. And it was making me unhappy and stressed, the less I was able to pump.

As a compromise to myself, I stopped pumping in the evenings. I chose the evenings because then I could wash parts early in the evening rather than when I was exhausted right before bed, and because the mornings were still the best time to get the most milk.

Then I planned the date I was going to quit for a couple weeks out. It was going to be a Thursday. I would pump once more, and that Friday I wouldn’t pump at all. I would be uncomfortable over the weekend, and then all would be well.

I opted to quit on a Monday, suddenly. I don’t know who does that, but I did, because I was impatient. And I didn’t even feel a thing. August 21 was my final pumping session and instead of feeling free, or relieved, or excited, I didn’t really feel anything at all. Just another work day, with an extra half hour in it. Likewise, I didn’t have any pain or discomfort. I must have weaned myself well.

And that was the end. A day or two out, I was appreciating wearing real bras again, but I’m still waiting for my final size, so they fit less than perfect. I haven’t put the pump away yet, maybe then it will seem more final.

Jameson holds his own bottle now.

Tuesday night he did actually nuzzle back into my arms after I burped him at night. And the other day he turned to me, stretched far and reached out his arms to grab at my legs, pulling himself to me. So these little things I can appreciate more now, I think. I guess we are turned to the next chapter.

This post is linked up with Shell’s Pour Your Heart Out at Things I Can’t Say. Visit Things I Can’t Say for more PYHO stories

You may also like


  1. Hilary, I had no luck pumping AT ALL. It was no fun, and I would get less than an ounce for all my effort. It didn’t matter much in my case, because no one could get my little guy to take a bottle. I nursed exclusively for 14 months, until he was nearly weaned and I could take no more. It was a period of mixed emotions for me.

    Thanks for sharing your story. Hopping over from Shell’s Pour Your Heart Out link up.

    1. Cookie’s Mom, I am grateful for the time I was able to pump, but it was definitely time to end. I am so impressed that you nursed exclusively for 14 months, that is so wonderful!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *