In 2000-2001, my life changed dramatically. I took a year off school and got an internship in another state. In the process of leaving my life behind, I discovered a new life with a happier, better me.
In 2010-2011, my life changed dramatically. I got pregnant. I gave birth to a wonderful baby boy. I've redefined my normal once again, and while this new life is less indulgent and more structured, I've had the honor and privilege of creating a new life, and I am lucky enough that I can watch him grow up.
Between you and me, I'm a little scared about what 2020-2021 has in store for me. Luckily, I have a long time before I find out.
Everyone tells me about how fast time passes when you have a child. I understand it. The past eight months have gone by quickly. (Though I have to say that the first 8 weeks of those 8 months were among the longest of my life.) I think time is passing so quickly because we haven't had many fun adventures to break up the monotony of bottles, diapers, and naps.
I'm looking forward to going on adventures with E. I ask B all the time where we should take E for his first vacation. That we are even contemplating a vacation with him is a huge step. I don't see myself hopping into an airplane with E any time soon--I'm not that brave--but maybe we can do a long weekend somewhere this summer.
A lot of people really enjoy the baby phase, but I am really looking forward to E being more like a mini human and less like a baby. I want him to be able to eat the food that we're eating and tell us what he's thinking and offer opinions and engage with us in a way that his little brain just can't do now. But whenever I find myself wishing for him to be older and more self-sufficient and frankly, a little less in need of so much sleep (seriously...15-16+ hours/day is nice but inconvenient), I try to remind myself to sit back and enjoy his baby years because they'll be gone soon.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Putting an end to the suffering
When I suffered my second bout of mastitis just days after completing the antibiotics course for my first bout of mastitis, I decided it was time to re-evaluate the pumping situation.
I like the idea of providing E with the very best nutrition, but my pumping was distancing me from him and potentially interfering with my ability to care for him. When I pump, I cannot pick E up, feed him, or even bend over. When I'm home alone with him, I pump during his naps, but when I have mastitis, I have to stick to a more strict schedule, so I need someone else to be available to take care of him while I pump (and when I'm unable to get out of bed or pick him up).
My mother took care of E both times that I got mastitis. I'm so lucky that she was able and willing to do that, but not being able to take care of your own child is a daunting position to be in.
I decided that 7 1/2 months of pumping and 2 bouts of mastitis was enough. I had suffered enough. (A touch dramatic, perhaps, but I was in rough shape.)
I am now slowly, slowly, slowly reducing the time that I pump, with the goal of stopping pumping all together at some point in the near future.
I drop a minute from each pumping session every 3 or 4 days. B and I joke that I will still be pumping on the day of E's high school graduation. Ok, probably not, though it could be months before I'm able to stop completely. Going slowly is the key to avoiding another run-in with the big M, mastitis.
My weaning myself from the pump means that E now has to drink some formula. I thought that I would feel guilty after giving him his first bottle of formula, but interestingly, I did not feel guilty. I felt relieved. I was no longer solely responsible for producing his nutrition. And luckily for us, he is willing to drink formula, which he gets only at school for the time being. We still have enough breastmilk that he doesn't (yet) have to drink formula at home.
My pumping journey has been long and difficult, and it's not over yet, but I'm proud of myself for making it this far, and I am so looking forward to the day when I no longer have to pump.
I like the idea of providing E with the very best nutrition, but my pumping was distancing me from him and potentially interfering with my ability to care for him. When I pump, I cannot pick E up, feed him, or even bend over. When I'm home alone with him, I pump during his naps, but when I have mastitis, I have to stick to a more strict schedule, so I need someone else to be available to take care of him while I pump (and when I'm unable to get out of bed or pick him up).
My mother took care of E both times that I got mastitis. I'm so lucky that she was able and willing to do that, but not being able to take care of your own child is a daunting position to be in.
I decided that 7 1/2 months of pumping and 2 bouts of mastitis was enough. I had suffered enough. (A touch dramatic, perhaps, but I was in rough shape.)
I am now slowly, slowly, slowly reducing the time that I pump, with the goal of stopping pumping all together at some point in the near future.
I drop a minute from each pumping session every 3 or 4 days. B and I joke that I will still be pumping on the day of E's high school graduation. Ok, probably not, though it could be months before I'm able to stop completely. Going slowly is the key to avoiding another run-in with the big M, mastitis.
My weaning myself from the pump means that E now has to drink some formula. I thought that I would feel guilty after giving him his first bottle of formula, but interestingly, I did not feel guilty. I felt relieved. I was no longer solely responsible for producing his nutrition. And luckily for us, he is willing to drink formula, which he gets only at school for the time being. We still have enough breastmilk that he doesn't (yet) have to drink formula at home.
My pumping journey has been long and difficult, and it's not over yet, but I'm proud of myself for making it this far, and I am so looking forward to the day when I no longer have to pump.
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