Breast talk at it's best.

**Attention Gentlemen: While this post IS all about the tatas.....it's not quite what you're thinking, or hoping. It's more about what nature intended the torpedoes to do, rather than what you think their purpose is. So you're advised to skip this post for your own good.

For those of you that don't know what happens when you stop nursing, pay attention. And I'm not talking about quitting a medical field job. I'm talking about the child stuck to your boob 24/7 feeding type nursing. For those that DO know, please laugh along with me.

So, yes, I stopped breastfeeding Miss D this week because, well, my milk supply has slowly become non-existent. I started her on formula a few weeks ago, so that's been going good. And I had hoped to build my milk back up...but no dice.

Getting to the point....I stopped on Sunday.
And now it feels like there's a grapefruit trying to exit my nipple on my left bazooka. Not my right mind you, just my left. OH yes, another fine perk of breastfeeding. My right boobazzle is SIGNIFICANTLY smaller than my left. It pretty much resembles a tube sock with a ping pong on the end. Very sexy.  Whereas my left knocker is rock FUCKING hard and the size of a bowling ball. So instead of having two nice headlights....I only have one.....that's permanently on bright. FML.

Oh, and you know what else is hunkingfuckingdorey?
The fact that if a mosquito farted near my left coconut I'd fall to the floor in agonizing pain. At this point, I'd rather just have no thingamajugs. Nope. None. Nada. Rather than have to deal with the constant excruciating pain that is my 'milk hardening'. Seriously. Last night at work, I was changing out the kazillion gallon water cooler jug, and as I was putting the new one on top it accidentally fell on my left jug. I thought I was going to pass out. There I am, bent over, screaming constant F bombs, while grabbing my chest. It made a pretty picture.

Actually, all I want to do is hold my hurting konga all day, and not in the ooolala way either. For some reason, just putting pressure helps. But, I have to catch myself 'putting pressure' to my oompa in the middle of the day. I'm pretty sure the 75% male work force here is just loving this. *palm to face.

Well, that's it for me.
Good talk.

What's new with you???
Anyone else having pointer-sister issues?

(PS: How many of you loved my use of boob-vocabulary. I'm pretty proud of myself there. hehehe)