weaning

A year-long journey is coming to an end this week.  It will be a gradual ending but one still wrought with a few tears (already shed) and a bittersweet ache in my heart as I say goodbye to what has become a powerful bond between my son and me. 

As we enter the week of C's first birthday, I am beginning the weaning process from breastfeeding. Again, this will be a gradual weaning for both C and me. It won't be completely done for a few weeks, but it is the beginning of the process that is hardest for me.

One year ago, I never thought I'd be here. One year ago as I sat on my couch in tears, my newborn screaming for his next meal, the previous one not yet 2 hours before. One year ago as I sat groggily up in bed night after night, less than 2 hours of sleep between me and the next wake up, nursing a hungry, crying baby, completing a task no one else could do. One year ago as I eeked out just enough milk after a few pump sessions to leave our baby with my husband for a few hours to attend the wedding of a friend.

I understand that I don't have to do this right now. Kellymom.com has a great post on this, and I agree with it. But as a working mother who relies on a pump to feed my child during the day, I am ready to be done. Making time for pump breaks (which I am grateful to have both by law and a supportive work environment) is very difficult in the midst of a busy day. It's been worth it this year, but I can't say I am sad to see it go.

I still plan to nurse each morning and evening as I am able during this time of weaning and hopefully for a few more weeks, maybe even a couple more months. That's the plan, though we will see how it goes.  

I never realized how much I would love sharing this with my child.  I am not a breastfeeding nazi. I believe in every woman and her partner making the choice that is best for their family. Exclusive breastfeeding simply isn't possible for some, and it may even cause more stress for mother and baby to the point that the baby benefits more from a mother choosing not to nurse rather than stressing through it.  My time nursing has been mostly pleasant (save for the pump and those early months when I felt I couldn't do anything without my child) and I am grateful for that. I think that is why this time is much more bittersweet than I expected.

I look forward to a little more freedom in my feeding options for C.  I look forward to continuing to introduce new foods in his diet and watching him explore new tastes.  I look forward to all that is coming as we celebrate his first year of life and watch him grow and develop over this next amazing year.

So for now, I will gradually watch this chapter in our life close knowing that the end and beginning of many, many exciting chapters lie ahead.

I am grateful and amazed that I have been able to completely nourish my child this year.  I look forward to the independence he is slowly gaining and the ability to continue nurturing and supporting him as he grows, takes his first steps, discovers his voice, and creates his own identity in this world. 

what do you do?

There are some wonderful articles and blogposts out there about how you're never failing as a mother, how you can raise your children "perfectly" without having to be perfect, how to overcome our Pinterest-obsessed society and eschew the need to make every holiday a circus-level parade for your child, etc.

I get it.

I don't have to be the perfect mother even in this world of Facebook and social media that somehow leads me to believe every other mother is doing a helluva a lot better than I am.

What do you do when you have those doubts? (I know, every mother has them).

What do you do when your 8 hour a stretch sleeper suddenly screams his head off after only 3 or 4 hours and nothing seems to settle him down but the sound of the shower?

What do you do when you had plans for the evening thwarted by your child having a fit as you fold him back into his carseat for the upteenth time that day (after you've, guiltily, spent 6 hours at work away from him)?

What do you do when you realize you've been doing it all wrong, giving him a "crutch" to sleep when really you just love rocking him until his arms flop and his sweet face is nestled in your chest?

You move on.

You chalk it up to experience. You relish in the moments that are good, that seem perfect, in which you and your child are having the time of your life.

You lean not on your own understanding and trust that it does get better, not that it gets easier, but that you learn to how to deal.

I just need this reminder today, this morning, this Good Friday morning. This Good Friday when, a year ago, our son was due to be born. This day that reminds us that Easter is coming, a new beginning is on the horizon, and Spring will soon be here.

in a moment

I'm in a moment.

Baby sleeping. Head on my shoulder. Breathing even and deep.

I'm in a moment.

I can do this.
This is easy.
Peaceful.
Sweet.

I'm in a moment.

The carpet is unvacuumed. The floors are unmopped. Dust bunnies are marking their territory.

But I'm in a moment.

Pure joy rests on my shoulder right now.

A sleepy arm just flopped to the side.

Nothing else

Matters.