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My boobs are exhausted.

For real, though. These breasts are t.i.r.e.d.

I think this is mostly because my utters are dry and the machinery of trying to extract the last vestiges of milk is crushing them. Or rather, squeezing the literal fucking life out of them.

It’s cool.

I don’t need them. Pen doesn't want them. My husband doesn’t need them either. Don’t let him tell you different.

More pressing, my head is exhausted. Like, my actual brain. My brain is exhausted.

Is that a thing?

For so long I’ve been trying to fix this.




I don’t even know what I’m trying to fix anymore.

So I’m basically chasing my tail or let’s just say, my shriveled up nipples, the entire time.

I lost my mind the other day after speaking with a feeding therapist.

She seems incredible, however, and we’ll find out more this week when we meet with her for the first time.

The problem was the various “fixes” she was throwing at me. Which, if you know me by now, you know I interpret these all as things I should have already fixed.

Which, trust, I realize is a dumb.

However one of the worst feelings for any parent, I feel, is the thought that they are missing something.

I actually had this convo recently with a good friend of mine. She’s on her own road of trying to best understand what her little dude needs to support his development.

The endless rabbit holes we throw ourselves down?

Yeah, it’s because of our fear that we’re missing something that we should have known.

That we should have already figured out.

The problem we should have already solved.

The thing we should have already fixed.

I will say I’m getting better at accepting this chapter for us.

This road, this journey we’re on with her.

Well, ummm... I think.

(*Looks to husband. Again, don't let him tell you different)

In truth, I say this most easily when I’ve hit a cement wall or landed at the bottom of one very dark bunny pit. When I’ve bashed my head against this possibility or landed in a crumpled heap with that possibility.

Then, I dust myself off or stand up and charge back into the ring (or in my case, the gut-wrenching google sphere, doctors office, or medical Facebook group) to see what new insight I can glean from all the fucking noise.

So what do you do?

When you’re trying to solve something that seemingly (at least at this point in your life) can’t be fixed…?

With your children?

In your relationship?

At your work?

In your life?

How do you surrender…

Your expectations?

Your desire for different?

Your wishes for change?

Honestly, I'm still learning. *ahhh big sigh....

Both my boobs and my brain are in need of a vacation.

-B xo

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