Things had been going pretty wonderfully in my life, and I thought I no longer needed this blog as an emotional crutch, and then the diva went on a nursing strike and I quickly redacted that conclusion.
I was pretty sure that I had staved off postpartum depression with my other two babies because the feel-good breastfeeding hormone oxytocin was my steady drip line.
This belief was confirmed when my third child, my 9.5 month-old, went from 8 feedings a day down to absolutely nothing for 36 hours. If you don’t know about the miracle of oxytocin, you’re missing out. And read this Huffington Pos article on the correlation between weaning and depression.
Having had this miracle drug ripped away, I felt like someone pulled the rug out from under me. I went into oxytocin withdrawal. I was a sobbing, soppy mess. My poor husband witnessed it all and quite honestly didn’t know what to do with me.
I was so desperate to get those feel-good hormones back I even crawled into baby’s crib while she was sleeping to try to nurse her. Twice. And both attempts were unsuccessful. That was my low point.
I’m an oxytocin junkie.
The great news is that this stubborn baby came around and started nursing again. So my free drugs are back, thank God.