A hormonal basket case was I.

As I was perusing the internet recently, I ran across an article about weaning depression and I was all HALLELUJAH! SO YOU MEAN IT REALLY EXISTS?! I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO WENT A LITTLE LOCO EN LA CABEZA, if you know what I mean (translation: crazy in da head)?

This little ole article inspired me to dig up a few little ole blog posts in my drafts that never saw the light of day. I had every intention of publishing them, but I just...didn't. I guess all it took was another person saying, "Hey! I'm here and I, too, had some crazy moments amidst the weaning!" These long-lost entries will explain the way weaning went down MUCH better than I ever could now.

"It's been four days of weaning. FOUR MISERABLE DAYS! I had visions of making it to a year. I guess the best of intentions don't mean crap. So why is my body not cooperating? Have I lost all my milk because I pumped too early? But Ben had jaundice and his pediatrician said I had to pump and supplement. Is it because I went out a few times without him and Tim bottle fed him while I didn't pump like a good breast-feeder should? My baby was not supposed to be on full-formula at seven months. This isn't the way I had it all mapped out in my head. And I'm too neurotic to cope with things not going as planned (There, I said it. I'm neurotic.) Anyway, I feel all foggy and...just...off. I'm not myself today. Wasn't really myself yesterday either. When does this go away?"

"Can you develop PPD this late in the game? I mean, I've been fine up until now and then WHAM. I got slapped across the face with the PPD monster. Or something. Is there such a thing as PWD (post weaning depression...oh, I'm clever)? If there's not, there should be. They don't tell you about this in birthing class. I feel like my baby is so grown up already that tomorrow he'll kiss me good-bye as he packs his car and heads for college. That's not irrational, right? Also, is it irrational that I feel that I have no purpose now that Ben's all weaned up?"

"I haven't breastfed in a month now. This is a dirty, evil game that my body is playing on me. Like, isn't it enough that I survived pregnancy hormones, then made it out of the the postpartum phase alive and with my senses intact? I'm so tired of being angry."

"Today was an ungood day. I had to ask Tim to come home from work because I couldn't handle being a mom. Who does that? Tomorrow will be better."

That was my last post. Three months into weaning and the clouds literally parted. One day I was terrible and the next day I was normal. God I hate hormones.

At least I can laugh about it now.