There has been a lingering effect of Ralph's recent visit, a dip in milk supply. Specifically, my right breast has decided it no longer wishes to hold up its end in its conversation with the pump. I'm not dehydrated. I've gone back on the herbs. I'm eating oatmeal and drinking water. Still it mocks me. "An ounce is enough, " it says. Ha! "Tell that to my growing 8 month old," I say.
It's like the theme from Frasier. "What IS a girl to do? Right breast has. left. the building."
10pm update: Right breast not on strike after all. Plumbing is clogged somewhere, as I have a large hard area in that breast now. This happened once before. I tried all the usual things (nursing, pumping, massage, nursing, hot shower, nursing, more pumping, did I mention I tried nursing?) but no luck until many hours later when a middle of the night nursing finally solved the problem.
All this is maybe to be expected since I allowed (begged is more like it) a plastic surgeon to slice and dice the girls four years ago. That the plumbing works at all is a minor miracle.
7am update: The middle of the night feeds (yes, that's a plural) were mostly ineffective at clearing the blockage but Oliver finally worked his magic. I can hear the sighs of relief all over the 'net.