I am in the middle of saying a long goodbye. A long, hard goodbye. A long, hard, beautiful goodbye.
I am weaning my (almost) 2.5 year old nursling and am feeling all the feelings.
I know it's been too long since I last blogged, but since many of you were so engaged by my post on my personal breastfeeding journey and since I am having a hard time processing this all alone, I thought I would write.
Write to get this out...out of my head, out of my heart, into space, into community. Write to help process what I am feeling and to pay tribute to the most amazing journey of defeat then triumph, self-loathing then love, confusion then clarity.
I don't feel quite ready to say goodbye to my nursing relationship, though I am not sure I would ever be 100 percent ready. But it is time. I am 25 weeks pregnant with my second baby. Plenty of people tandem nurse and to those women, I say "Bravo!" But for us, it isn't something we can pursue. I had chronic low supply with Austen and while there is no knowing what will happen this time around, I can't assume that things will be any different. So, to ensure this new baby gets all that I have to offer and to stave off jealousy and confusion by the big brother we planned to stop 2-3 months before this new little life is set to join our family.
I just returned from a week-long work trip, which made for a natural break in the relationship, but now that I am back it is so hard. So hard to say no, to redirect, to not scoop him up when he wakes up and wants a snuggle and a little 'minya' (his made up word for breastfeeding since 10 months). So hard when he took a tumble and got a fat lip at the playground not to console him in the way he desperately wanted. So hard to feel his little hands tracing my arms, my neck, my chest feverishly trying to find a way in when putting him to bed. It all just feels hard.
(Except my nipples - ha! - for the first time this pregnancy they don't want to murder me.)
I am so beyond grateful and happy to have made it here. We've come so far both in months and in meaning, farther than I ever thought I would with all the physical and mental challenges I faced. I felt so broken and inadequate for so long. There is much to celebrate and yet I am so sad to say good and it doesn't quite feel long enough right now.
It is a moment where I have to say goodbye to our nursing relationship, but also hello to the realization that my first, my Austen, won't be my only for much longer. And boy is that overwhelming. There is a sense of loss and gain that are indescribable.
This nursing relationship changed my life. It made me so raw and vulnerable and lost and alone that I had to re-find and redefine myself. I went to therapy at 3 months postpartum because I was spiraling so out of control. I stopped the pumping and the off market drugs and madness and started to enjoy my baby at 8 months. I became a trained birth and postpartum doula at 10 months because I never wanted anyone else to feel the way I had been made to.
I've undoubtedly become a better mom and friend and woman and human being because of this nursing relationship. I'm more empathetic, more aware, more middle ground, more kind, more gentle, just more.
Thanks to my Austen for being something worth fighting so hard for, for teaching me so much these past two plus years, for sticking with the nursing despite the tubes and timing and fatigue and frustration. Thanks for teaching me to be a mom and for loving me unconditionally. Thanks for showing me the difference between nourishment and nutrition.
Thanks to my husband for being by my side fully, desperately, kindly in every critical or ordinary moment. No matter what I needed, you just seemed to get it.
Thanks to my therapist who for three months helped me make sense of things that didn't make sense in a space that was safe and freeing.
Thanks to my family and friends for their support, for their letting me tell my story and struggles as often as I needed. Thanks for bringing a meal or sharing a hug in those dark, hard months.
Thanks to a virtual community of mothers who despite not knowing me or owing me anything allowed the sisterhood of motherhood to guide their words and wishes, helping me through some tough early moments.
Thanks to a few fellow doulas along the way that helped to validate and value my experience, reframing it for me as one of power and perseverance and strength despite all odds.
Thanks to the five mothers who shared their milk with my baby when I couldn't give him all that he needed. The relationships I had with these women in these moments are beyond words. Whether strangers or old friends, each of you were so kind and gentle with me. There was no pity, no expectations, and no judgment. You honored and respected me as much as I did you.
Thanks to the breast pumps and sns'es, to the herbs and the oats, to the formula and the bottles for being such important tools to help me feed my baby.
Thanks to my body for doing all you could to nourish this tiny fragile little baby into a strong beautiful brilliant boy. To my heart and my head and my arms and my breasts, will I always wonder why and how this all happened, maybe, but you are pretty darn amazing and right now as we say goodbye to this experience, I am so in awe of your strength and grateful for your capabilities.
And yes, with all that said, I am still sad to say goodbye. I know that our next relationship will be different - maybe different better, maybe different worse, but different nonetheless. I may be angrily frustrated again, or perhaps blissfully relieved, but I know that it will be different and I know that I won't be alone.
So, for now, I say goodbye and hello and thank you. A million times thank you for this life, this love, this body.
Thank you.