I decided to cut back on the pumping at work, because AwesomeKid has been less interested in the boobs as of late, plus she has moved into the "Walkers" class at daycare, where she is allowed to eat non-purées. Finger food has been her preferred food for many months now, but daycares have rules, so she's been stuck with mush until now. So the combination of real food at daycare, her unending campaign against bottles, and hitting that magical twelve month made it seem like the time was ripe to cut out at least one pumping session per day.
The first few days went fine. I was a little (ok, a lot) more busty than usual, but that's no big. A little bit of pressure, but no pain. All was smooth sailing. Alas, what I had not counted on was the hormones.
I woke up a little late on Thursday, but I'm always a little late. Normally, I just rush around and make it work. Some things get left behind occasionally, which generally annoys me but so it goes. I don't like how disorganized I've become, but I have adopted a "strive for your best, and remember your best won't be perfect under your current life circumstances" way of looking at the work situation as of late.
But back to Thursday. I woke up late, and on Thursday it was a TRAGEDY. I was really really really angry with myself for sleeping in. And then I had no clean clothes, so that made me more angry. The dishes were piling over in the sink AGAIN, and I got really worked up thinking about how much time I spend doing dishes when I could be doing other things, and how BestHusbandEver could really do the dishes more often, and how unfair the lack of a dishwasher was for our family. Then I started thinking about the piles of laundry, and that made me mad too. I think I tripped over several toys, which exacerbated the angst.
So next thing I know, I'm crying and telling BestHusbandEver that we need a serious discussion about our division of domestic responsibilities, but we can't talk about it now because I need to leave for work, and by the way I am completely overwhelmed with life and I haven't had more that four hours of sleep at a time for almost a year, and I just don't know how I can handle this anymore.
Bear in mind, that while I don't get much sleep, and I do have a fair amount of stressors (what working mom doesn't?), I generally am pretty damn satisfied with life and don't really care about having a messy house. This freak out really did come out of nowhere.
Anyhow, I get to work, my eyes are all red, I'm in the bathroom trying to calm down, and I wind up telling my first class I have a cold plus I slept in my contacts. After that I went and cried in the bathroom about how horrible my life was for a while. It was bizarre. I was literally shaking with emotion. I was considering quitting my job right then and there. Could not stop crying when I wasn't actually teaching. It was very dramatic.
I made it through the day, but it felt like I'd been through some horrible trauma. I had that whole post crying your eyes out empty feeling. It was awful. I was just so sad, and the fact that this sadness had come out of nowhere was worrying. I thought I might be pregnant, because the feeling reminded me very strongly of my weepy anxious pregnant self.
Then it hit me. The boobs weren't full and huge in the morning as they had been the past few days. My body had adjusted its milk production. HORMONES were at play here. The power of Google confirmed it. Actually, there was very little stuff out there about weaning and mood swings, but there was enough to confirm my suspicions. Evidently the milk producing hormone is associated with feelings of calm and peace and all that happy stuff. I guess I was having some kind of peace love happiness hormone withdrawal. Luckily, it was short-lived, because all was well with the world by Friday.
Hormones. They are powerful. I don't like to give them credit, because I don't like to think I'm ruled by my primitive reptile brain. But sometimes I am, I guess. Fingers crossed they can keep in check for the rest of the weaning process, because Thursday really sucked. At least I feel prepared for the possibility, and I'll know to call in in sick next time. Yay me.