If the word 'engorgement' sends you running for the hills, you might want to pack a cooler and go camping. Right. now.
Lefty has gone beyond giving me fits to being downright (can't think of the appropriate boobie explitive but if I could or if you have one, enter it here).
I woke up early yesterday morning to pump with a searing pain and following had a walnut sized lump leftover. Only after deep, painful massage and a hot shower was I able to relieve some of the pressure. There is something just wrong, wrong, wrong about bruised boobies.
At first they were a novelty. I never had 'em before, but I. am. so. over. them. I'll happily go back to my A-.
Ta ta tatas.
Mark your calendar.
May 18, 2011
Bonfire and sweet hallelujah singing to the heavens.
Bring all your nursing bras, hooter hiders, and anything labeled Madela. I'll supply the gasoline and matches.
Pumping is a pain. For reals. I'm sitting here pumping. That's how I know. Sucky. No sucky is why I'm pumping. Ironic, isn't it?
I'm spending the weekend nursing my nursers. Lame.
That's all I have to say about that.
Earlier this week husband let me know that my pump reminds him of a movie. It used to be one of my favorites. Used to be.
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