Oh to wean or not to wean, that is the question that I have been wrestling with lately. Miss A is now a year old and shows no sign of stopping nursing. I know all the great benefits of breastmilk, really I do, I don't think that I am being a bad mom because I am thinking of turning off the tap. The main reason I am thinking of closing up shop is that my lovely daughter can be a bit physical with her source of liquid refreshment, well actually very, very, very aggressive. I continue to work on her manners when she is at the bar, but she is so strong and fast that she can easily get in a few pinches, and scratches before I can gain control of her hands. Then she struggles to free her hands so that she can go back to kneading me like bread dough. OUCH! It is a comfort thing for her. I have tried all sorts of things to get those hands to behave.
So, yesterday I had made up my mind that I was done. Done with the scratches, the bruises, the constant deflecting of little grabby hands. Done with her constantly pulling on the neck of my shirts, because she feels she should have access 24/7. Done with waiting for the next pinch. Done with feeling like her plaything.
Then last night after she was asleep, I sat on our bed with the hubs and just sobbed. I thought about how she was the last baby. How I didn't really want to be done with babies in our house. Then I thought about how unbelievably hard I worked to get to this point. How I fought for more nursing time in the NICU so that I would have more of a supply for her. All those weeks of pumping every 2-3 hours round the clock so that she could eat. The weight of all that work weighed heavy on my shoulders.
Was I just throwing it away? Am I being selfish? Is it okay to just be done? Should I continue until she is at her due date? Should I continue until she is ready to be done? What if she is never done? Can I take anymore of her grabby hands?
I. Don't. Know.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Sunday, March 3, 2013
"The Bag"
"The Bag" has sat on the shelf in our basement for well over two years. I would look at it sitting there and think "I need to go through that." then I would walk away or find something to distract me. You see I wasn't quite sure what was in "The Bag", I hadn't packed it. I was sure I knew the general contents of "The bag", just not specifically what is contained. I felt like it was my Pandora's box, I couldn't put back what I saw once I opened it.
I started to think more about opening "The Bag" a few months after Miss A came home. My husband had hired a home organizer to come and give us some tips to try and make our house look less like there were two very young children and two very stressed out and tired parents living in it. She was nice and had some good ideas about various areas of concern we had in the upstairs area of our home. Then we went into the basement, which is finished by the way, it isn't some dark, and dank place. One end of our family room has built in bookshelves and on one shelf sits "The Bag". She asked about it and if it could be thrown away, I told her I wasn't ready to throw it away since I would need to go through it first. She asked me what was stopping me form going through it. I fessed up that I didn't really want to face what was in "The Bag", that someday I would be able to. She looked at me expectantly, so I shared with her our story.
"The Bag" is filled with items that accumulated during the months of June and July, 2010. I told her that this time had been very difficult and that I had recently returned from having our second preemie and that I was pretty shot emotionally. She smiled at me and shared that she had had a preemie too and she totally understood how I felt. I asked how early her baby had been, 34 weeks and spent 1 week in the NICU. I said that I was sorry that she had to experience the NICU. In my mind I was thinking that she had no idea what I was saying and that she had no idea what it has been like for us, move on to something other than the f-ing bag!
So, the other day I found a moment where both children were napping, at the same time, I swear I heard angels singing. I felt ready to open "The Bag". I mentally saw my nurses and PCT packing up my room and placing these items in this bag when they got word that I would not be coming back to the unit. So I sat there, with the Kleenex close at hand, and went through "The Bag". I remembered each item and who gave it to me. There were several cards and I read and reread each one. There were so many complex memories tied to these items, it was a little overwhelming to revisit them. At the same time it was freeing, to let go and say good-bye to "The Bag".
One more piece of baggage has been set down as I move further away from that summer.
I started to think more about opening "The Bag" a few months after Miss A came home. My husband had hired a home organizer to come and give us some tips to try and make our house look less like there were two very young children and two very stressed out and tired parents living in it. She was nice and had some good ideas about various areas of concern we had in the upstairs area of our home. Then we went into the basement, which is finished by the way, it isn't some dark, and dank place. One end of our family room has built in bookshelves and on one shelf sits "The Bag". She asked about it and if it could be thrown away, I told her I wasn't ready to throw it away since I would need to go through it first. She asked me what was stopping me form going through it. I fessed up that I didn't really want to face what was in "The Bag", that someday I would be able to. She looked at me expectantly, so I shared with her our story.
"The Bag" is filled with items that accumulated during the months of June and July, 2010. I told her that this time had been very difficult and that I had recently returned from having our second preemie and that I was pretty shot emotionally. She smiled at me and shared that she had had a preemie too and she totally understood how I felt. I asked how early her baby had been, 34 weeks and spent 1 week in the NICU. I said that I was sorry that she had to experience the NICU. In my mind I was thinking that she had no idea what I was saying and that she had no idea what it has been like for us, move on to something other than the f-ing bag!
So, the other day I found a moment where both children were napping, at the same time, I swear I heard angels singing. I felt ready to open "The Bag". I mentally saw my nurses and PCT packing up my room and placing these items in this bag when they got word that I would not be coming back to the unit. So I sat there, with the Kleenex close at hand, and went through "The Bag". I remembered each item and who gave it to me. There were several cards and I read and reread each one. There were so many complex memories tied to these items, it was a little overwhelming to revisit them. At the same time it was freeing, to let go and say good-bye to "The Bag".
One more piece of baggage has been set down as I move further away from that summer.
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