Dear Pituitary glands, milk glands, boobs, and associated anatomy,
You are not my friend. You tease me. You make 12oz of milk a day. Enough to give me hope of maybe one day making enough to feed my son, but never actually coming close. Why do you not release enough prolactin? Why do you not preform as expected?
I wish you were under warrenty. I wish you were covered by the lemon law. I would return you from whence you came in a hot second.
You make me very very sad, milk production parts. I cry every day because of you. I have tried to encourage you in so many ways- I have pumped and pumped you, taken nasty herbs and teas, tried massages, hypnosis, accupuncture, oatmeal, lactation consultants, and so many other things.
But you just won’t cough up the mommy milk.
Please wake up, milk parts. I am frustrated and sad and mad and so tired of working so hard and not getting anywhere.
-Inkleberry
Dear Doctor X-
Why haven’t you called me back? I have been calling for days. I am not making any significant milk. Things are only getting worse. You know very well that my only option left is a prescription from you. And you know I am sitting at home crying and crying waiting to hear whether I will get it or I should give up on nursing altogether. But you do not call. Not for two days now. I am mad and sad and hate sitting by the phone. Please call me, this isn’t funny anymore.
OK. Thx.
-Inkleberry
Dear BoobNazis-
Please stop sending me emails every day telling me that I’m lazy, abusive, and a horrible mom for feeding my son formula. Clearly, I never should have asked anyone from LLL or similar groups for help. The fact that my son would dehydrate and get sick within 24hrs if I tried to give him only the milk I do produce escapes you. You are clearly more committed to your dogma than the health of moms and kids.
But seriously, where the fuck do you get off? Is it not enough that I cry every day because I can’t make milk? That I have tried so hard to pump and make myself lactate that I have made myself physically ill and exhausted to the point where doctors had to tell me to stop? Somehow, though, you continue to feel justified in sending me nasty emails every day, 6 weeks after I aked you for help. Because name calling and fucking with me will clearly help me with a process I don’t have control of.
I am especially enamoured of the repeated suggestion that I drink a beer every time I nurse every day. In your fucked up world, feeding my baby formula makes me a monster, but drinking 6-8 or more beers a day makes me a good mom. What the fuck?
I hate you. You are making things worse. Kindly fuck off.
Secretly hoping to find you in a dark alley and poke your chocolate starfish with a sharp stick,
-Inkleberry
I am filled with grrrrr and sad.
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