There may very well be such a thing as too much (breastfeeding) support. Who knew?

We were in the car today and I said to J, "Some days Miss H drives me insane with breastfeeding. Today is one of them."

"Okay," he replied.

"If it didn't go against everything I feel is right, I'd wean her."

"But she's not ready to wean," he said back.

"I know. She doesn't let me forget." And she doesn’t. That girl asks to nurse every thirty seconds it seems. And if I ask her to stop nursing before she is done, it’s an epic meltdown. If I ask her if she wants a glass of milk, or chocolate milk, or even a freaking cookie she wails, “No! Milk from Mommy’s boobies!” So yeah…there is no such thing as distraction or substitution with this girl.

"Well, you can't wean her if she isn't ready," he told me, like some how this logic works for everyone. I mean, apparently he hasn't met most of America. But I digress...

"What if I'm ready?" Some days I really do feel like I am. Some days all the whining and sucking makes me resent her a little bit. I want to love on her and cuddle her, but not always with one of my boobs in her mouth.

Don’t get me wrong, most of the time I don’t feel that way. For the majority of the time I love breastfeeding her. I love that I am her comfort and security. That my milk can make anything under the sun better for her. I do like that. But then sometimes. Well, sometimes I’m just tired. And I wonder how other people do this.

"You can't be. She isn't ready. And you're the one who wants her to self wean. It's what is best for her." I love J. I really do. But why must he take everything I tell him to heart? Before we had H and we first discussed breastfeeding he was pro-boob because it was a helluva lot cheaper. Then I made him do his own research because I think it’s important we be on the same page due to our own findings, not because one of us has told them other xyz. After all his research he was all “I think you should breastfeed until at least 2. But I think maybe until the baby chooses to be done is better.” So then I did more research and was like, “Yeah! You’re right! Great idea!” And got completely on that bandwagon. But since I’m the one actually doing it, my feelings waiver occasionally. J’s do not.

"I know," I admitted a bit exasperated.  “But she is so demanding. And my nipples hurt. All. The. Time. Baby B nurses all night long (yeah, that night weaning shiznik back in May lasted a whopping week. Go figure…). I’m tired. I’m over it.”

“You’re tired. You’re not over it. You’ve still got at least another year of breastfeeding. Probably longer knowing our kids. You didn’t sleep last night. This morning has been rough. You’ll be fine tomorrow.”

I nodded. I sighed. “Probably,” I admitted. “Maybe we should just let baby B cry it out tonight. See how things go? Maybe I can get some more sleep.”

“Now you’re just screwing with me,” J said.

I laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”