With lots of painkillers and lots of love, patience, squeezing and massaging from Hubby, my breasts are feeling a little more normal now.
But I feel like a cow now, having to massage and express out the milk every 3 hours or so to prevent another engorgement. The hot and humid weather isn’t helping matters. Pain, I can endure. Sweat and grime but no bath makes cherryteq a grouchy and unhappy girl (woman, mother, whatever)
Anyway, all that hard work expressing the meagre amount of milk that can only be treated as dessert for the Little One after his full feed is somewhat depressing. What’s more I have to throw away all that I’ll be painstakingly expressing these 2 days because of some Chinese herbal drink I took for my health isn’t helping my mood.
On the other hand, concentrating on getting rid of the blocked ducts without the stress of having to save every drop of milk for the Little One can be considered as a blessing in disguise. As Hubby has been saying to me this past week, I need to nurse myself back to full health before I can begin to think about taking care of my Little One. How right and wise of Hubby.
Now that Hubby is back at work, I think I’m suffering from separation anxiety after being used to having him around me, first with comforting and assisting me when I was in labour, to taking good care of me back home. Counting down the hours to seeing him again…