Breastfeeding: The End

Steam fills the room as the water hits me. I give my four-year-old some jobs: get a toy for your sister, and bring the phone in here so I can tell you how to ring your Dad.

As the water's warmth envelopes me, the shivering finally stops. I try again. I cry as the pain hits and milk flows down the drain in a sea of hot water. And I cry with relief as my girl calls out: "Daddy said he'll be home in fifteen minutes."

There is nothing I take more seriously than caring for my girls. Nothing. And those around me know I take a lot of pride in feeding them well and looking after their health.

Most also know that I never wanted to breastfeed. Not even once. And I've disliked every single feed with each of them - I read or play on my phone or anything else to distract myself from having someone suck milk from me. On a good day, this distraction will be holding a tiny hand or tickling little feet. Sometimes I'll even take a selfie because one day I might look back and think this was a lovely time.

But I've done it because it was the best thing for them and they thrived on it. In the end I wanted to look back and say that I always put their health first, that for that relatively short time I did what needed to be done. That I was always a good mum. (A weird mum-thing: if I'm unhappy but my kids are put first then all is good. I'm a work in progress in changing this way of thinking.)

Sometimes the sacrifice is too big, and my limit has been reached when I've been left unable to look after my kids so many times. Three bouts of mastitis with Abbey were unpleasant and hell at the time. With Iris though, there have been at least six or seven bouts (although I've lost count), more migraines than ever with serious symptoms, and too many times saying, "Sorry, Mummy's sick." Feeding my baby is taking everything I have.

The bottles are coming out (after I painfully feed through this) and I'm going to try and stop my brain from saying it's second best and my girl deserves the best - because the best in this case is a healthy mum. I'm going to chant that until it becomes second nature.

I've fed each of my girls for nine months, when I didn't even want to do it for five minutes. And I'm bloody proud of myself for that.