Spilt milk. I feel like crying over this spilt milk, its not the first time, but the second and each time its a blow to the heart.  Pumping or expressing milk when the supply is already low is like panning for gold when you have nothing. Then finding some specs of gold and tossing it out with the rubbish!!


Today I spilt expressed breast milk for the second time in my life and earlier in the week my husband through out some expressed breast milk by accident! There are of course worse thing that could happen but as the saying goes ‘ Don’t cry over spilt milk’, because its gone, not coming back and there’s no way of brushing it up and reusing it!

You also can’t blame the ‘ device’ – I call it the ‘sucker’- that doesn’t quite stick to the chest well enough while sucking out milk so that even a slight nudge can make it come undone and possibly tip over if you’re not quick enough.

I wasn’t quick enough this morning. I was tired and trying to juggle two ‘suckers’ while changing a nappy- this is a recipe for DISASTER!

Sharing this is simply to remind myself of the trials of motherhood and my weakness to look for a guilty party- plastic or human!

A few years ago I read this wonderful Japanese proverb:

“You are sailing alone on a ruff ocean when suddenly you catch sight of another boat coming your way. You make noise and flash lights to alert them to your location but despite your best efforts the boat clumsily sails right into your boat. You are angry why did they not avoid you. Then you sea there is no sailor, the boat is empty and your anger subsides; there is no-one to blame.”

A few weeks ago I had a bright idea that I would blog every day- just a few sentences- on motherhood and breast feeding with an a low milk supply. Now I realise I’m too much of a perfectionist- checking spelling and grammar, finding photos, would take more than the 10 minutes I’m taking to write this. The daily blogging never happened- phew you say!

But this is today’s offering from life, raw, from the heart and cathartic for me, just now, after finally cleaning up the spilt milk. And this is the wee beauty I get to watch and admire and love, and someone I know would never cry over spilt milk.




Author: thesewideeyes

Doctor, Mother, traveller, surfer...day by day understanding life.

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