I can’t feasibly breast feed my daughter. It makes me really upset. I know she’ll be fine without it. But I was so good at it with George and I really looked forward to a similar experience.

It wasn’t all about the bond. It was just so damn convenient. Wherever I went, my child went and there was nourishment on demand. Pumping wasn’t so bad either. It got to be a bother to manage at work after a year, but it was a special thing I was able to do to protect my son from illness and infection.

I was so good at it that I even helped supplement my nephew while he was in the NICU. I was so proud of myself; to give back. I wanted to help feed other babies too.

It just doesn’t seem like its in the cards for my little girl.

I’ll be able to breastfeed her colostrum while we’re in the hospital. But the switch to formula seems like it’ll be immediate.

We’re concerned about a fistula forming after surgery and causing infection and all kinds of nasty problems if I breastfeed. I think I’ll need some more details on this concern to help balance my grief.

I was hoping that I could feed her for a little while. Three months. But soon after surgery we’ll start on radiation. And no one wants radioactive milk for their child.

It’s devastating to say goodbye to a chapter of my life that was closed before I realized it was already over.

George pulled down my shirt this afternoon, as babies do, and I got choked up because I usually chide him they’re not for him anymore, while thinking to myself they’re for his sister next. They’re no good to anyone now. A bit dramatic, but I challenge you to kindly change my mind.

March 21, 2021

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