I’ve been feeling really off the last few days. Sad without reason. Anxious. My insomnia has ramped up. I tried to write about it yesterday, but the words just weren’t coming, which is pretty unlike me.
A post in a Facebook group turned a light on in my brain this morning and I quickly pulled out my calendar… It’s been exactly a month since my last period started, which means that fucker is just around the corner. I still feel lousy, but at least I know why.
My post-baby periods have been really rough. The flow is pretty much the same, but the hormones are INSANE. In fact, that is the exact reason I even noted my period on the calendar the last few months. I’ve only had 4 postpartum periods so far, so I wanted to see if I was imagining things or if my recent low points have actually been tied to my period. This morning pretty much confirms it for me.
I never used to have any noticeable symptoms of PMS, but now I feel like I am just one big ball of PMS. I spent some time with Dr. Google this morning and I’m discovering that there are a lot of moms out there posting about having crazy PMS while breastfeeding. So I guess maybe there’s something to this?
I know I’ve talked about weaning a thousand times, and every time I say I’m going to, there’s a shift in things and I decide to keep going.
When she turned one I said I was DONE. Then I weaned off of dom and stopped pumping and I found that once I took the pump and the pills out of the equation, I was actually enjoying our nursing the most I ever have—so I kept going.
Then it was sleep. She only wants the boob at night and I couldn’t take having to be up with her 3-4 times every night. It was killing me. I swore I was done and it was like she heard me and started sleeping better. At this point, she usually only wakes once in the night and I’ve been feeling like I can totally handle that.
Now, it’s PMS. I don’t even know what to do with this. Is it a deal breaker? Maybe? Not?
She’s nursing about 3x a day. Bedtime, middle of the night and wake up. I feel like maybe it’s time to call it, but I’m scared. On the occasions when I’ve denied her the boob, all hell has broken loose. I don’t know if I have this battle in me.
She asks for it now, too. “Boobie?” It’s probably the cutest thing she’s ever said and it’s going to break my freaking heart to tell her no. Also, well—she’s my baby. My only baby ever. I will never have this again. (Cue the waterworks.)
I’ve sort of been hoping she’ll wean herself but I feel like at the rate we’re going, she’ll still be nursing when I retire.
I think what I’ve realized from writing this is that right now—in the throes of PMS that’s making me depressed—is probably not the right time to make this decision.