If you’re a boy, you should proceed with caution. Or click to another webpage. Just forewarning you. ‘Cause I’m nice like that. <grin>

We made it through…

nearly 28,000 minutes of pumping milk for Brennan! (Which is about 466 hours, or a little over 19 days of 24/7 pumping)

roughly 300 36 gallons of milk stored at one time or another in our fridge or freezer (sorry everyone, I totally did my math wrong! It was only 36. I may have felt like a cow, but I was not literally a cow!!!)

a hundred or so plastic milk containers that made up our freezer stash

the swelling emotions of having a baby who wouldn’t latch and deciding to go the route of pumping

10.5 months of pumping (for seven months, I was pumping 5-6 times a day, then down to 4, 3, 2 and 1)

schedule juggling in order to do things outside the home in the midst of pumping, feeding, and naps

soreness of occasional clogged ducts

with joy in being able to give my Brennan his “milks”, which he absolutely loved!

the fear of not being able to provide enough milk, seeing the Lord faithfully provide countless of times

pumping in airport bathroom stalls

with wretched posture from my back being slumped over to keep the horns in place

in utter amazement at how the Lord made our bodies

humbled at the sight of seeing my pumping horns be the first thing friends and family see as they open up the fridge

giving up dairy after Brennan’s horrible tummy aches led us to discover he has an aversion to dairy

laughing at the weird noises that would come from having the horns positioned off center <grin>

Thanksgiving afternoon, when after giving Brennan his first big bottle of formula, he screamed for nearly an hour because of an upset tummy. His momma didn’t even think about the dairy products in formula!

tears that flowed after making the decision to stop pumping and seeing Brennan turn away from the soy formula we bought later that afternoon on Thanksgiving (thankfully, he has since grown accustomed to it, but his momma isn’t quite there yet)

a few (thankfully!) moments of pumping when the sound of the machine grated on my every nerve

airport security without any hitch…it was determined my milk was just that: milk

with an aching heart while pumping those last few times, knowing a precious season was coming to a close

mourning when packing the pump away, knowing that, while at times inconvenient and difficult, pumping was a gift I delighted to give Brennan

with the peace and assurance that only God in His sweet tenderness could give, knowing very clearly how He helped me every step of the way

with deep, deep gratitude for Matt, who went above and beyond in his service and words of encouragement to spur me on and help me not feel so alone in this journey. And to my Momma, too, who always cheered me on, and who would sit on the floor with me, keeping me company when she was around

truly thankful, knowing I wouldn’t have changed a thing, that if I could go back and do it all over again, I would in a heartbeat.