The fruits of my labor

Before Noah was born I decided to breast feed. Not because I had some hidden desire to have a baby latched to my boob, but because all of the books and doctors say "breast is best." So Noah was born and we tried breastfeeding. Except he wasn't a boob man. Sometimes he would latch on but more often than not he wouldn't. And then the poor little guy would cry because he was hungry and my night shirt would be soaked because I would be leaking milk. In the end, the nurses at the hospital had me pump the breast milk and give to him in a bottle. Noah was thrilled and my nipples no longer hurt. Happy baby, happy mommy.I guess you could say I was an overachiever in the area of breast milk production. I pumped every 2-3 hours or else I would leak all over my clothes and the bed. Within days we realized that I had too much milk so we started freezing it, thinking that we would give it to Noah when I went back to work. I planned on pumping for six weeks, but finding a job took longer than I thought so six weeks ended up being 5.5 months. In the end my freezer (and my parents freezer) were OVERFLOWING with little bags of frozen breast milk.All of which I threw away this past weekend.The bags we bought which everyone said were so great sucked. We'd thaw out a "momsicle" (online term for frozen breast milk) and the bag would leak everywhere.Now all of my hard work is sitting in a garbage bag on in front of the house waiting for the Phoenix Sanitation Department to come and get it.