It’s been twelve hours since I last pumped, and my boobs aren’t sore. They’re only slightly tender to the touch (I’m squishing ’em around right now, and they don’t feel full). I’ll pump them in a little bit, and probably get three ounces out of each. But I’ll remember the days when I had so much milk, it spilled down the sides of the bottles.
My rock hard booby days are long gone now. They used to be so engorged, I could flex my pecs and squirt you in the eye through my shirt. Now, I have no use for cold compresses, hot compresses, breast pads, lanolin… not a one. Not a thing.
I had been waiting and waiting through pregnancy to sleep on my stomach again, only to find that instead of a baby in my belly, these milk bags would continue to keep me from my goal. Oooh, but how the tide has turned. Their absence means very, very soon, my boobs will no longer be necessary. They’ll just be your everyday, run-of-the-mill flap jacks. No more milk, no more baby needing mommy. Just me, sadly sleeping on my stomach with normal boobs…
I miss them so. *sniffle*