I've woken up today & I just don't want to breastfeed anymore. I just feel done. I feel depleted. I feel ready. I feel like I want to move to the next chapter, and as SELFISH as this is going to sound I want to get my laser hair removal done and my yogi tattoo and my Botox... & then I get this GUILT of "just keep going till SHE is done, not you" & it's this roller coaster that I've been riding for a few weeks now & it’s exhausting. Not to mention then the anxiety sweeps in with “what if she gets sick & breastmilk could help her but you chose to stop because YOU WANTED BOTOX!?” Oooft. Why does it feel like every decision when it comes to self care comes at a sacrifice to something else? It’s always a sacrifice when we choose ourselves. ALWAYS. Choosing ourselves means we have chosen to NOT spend our time or money or energy on them. On something for THEM. And I know, I know by choosing myself, by filling my own cup that it teaches them how to fill theirs, that ultimately I will be able to be a better version of myself, a better mother to them when I give to myself. I know this. I do. Or half of me does. The other half just renders me nonsensical with guilt that I swear I can feel physically. It’s just a lot. Decisions. So many decisions. I didn’t think motherhood would be full of all this decision making. But here we are. Our brains struggling to think of basic words, struggling to string those words together to explain what the heck’s going on inside of us. Trying to make the best decisions we can every second of every day all while that same brain is at war with what we know, what we feel, what we thought & what the damn reality of what motherhood really is. And it’s a lot.