Some Nursing Mother Ramblings

I sat down over an hour ago to blog some thoughts I had, and I  got distracted and then Tass woke from her nap, so I didn’t get to do it!

This morning the newest edition of Midwifery Today came and there were a bunch of photos from a photo contest. One of them had a woman nursing her daughter in a birthing pool with a new baby on the other side of her chest (presumably nursing) with the father also in the pool looking on. Now these days, when I get the time to look at stuff like Midwifery Today, or photos of babies, I just tear up. I am not normally like that so I chalk it up to pregnany hormones. I mean, yeah, I tear up a lot anyway, but this is like crying on steroids. It’s so easily provoked! But looking at this picture I was so touched, and then I thought about all of the frustration and resentment I’ve had nursing Aftasie. Overall, I’ve loved nursing. I loved the feeling of holding a  baby in my arms and giving them nourishment, and I loved nursing Aftasie when she was a lot smaller. But somewhere along the line I really lost the joy. These days putting Aftasie to sleep on the nipple has been frightfully frustrating because pregnancy has made my nipples feel like she is ripping them off when she first latches on and when I let down. But through the past year or so I really have forgotten about all of the ideals I had about nursing, and all of the things I believed about nursing as nurturing. I have simply seen it as a frustrating moment to be lived through. I don’t really want to wean her, because I know we’ll lose a connection that will never happen again, and I don’t necessarily want to hurry that away. I also have been finding no value in the here and now and in the present act of nurturing my daughter. Why does she want to nurse? She’s not hungry or thirsty, so why should I nurse her? But why does she want to nurse? I think I’ve refound my inspiration to nurse her, as I see ourselves in a clearer picture of who we are -- she is a very young child and I am her mother. She’s not nursing to frustrate me or control me, and it’s not her fault it hurts to nurse these days. She wants to be close to me, and to suck, as she's done from birth, and maybe have a comfy place to lie down. Heck, it hurt like hell the first week and I was nothing but gushing for her (with tears in my eyes for the pain!).

Other things I’ve realized today that are related to nursing are that it’s OK to struggle. We hung out at the park with some other moms today (as is becoming our habit!) and it’s nice to hear that no one feels particularly productive as far as housework goes, and to hear people admit that they just can’t do it all. I can’t either! It makes me resent it less when I hear other moms say the same thing. It’s not like my own personal problem, it’s just parenting. Yeah, kids take a lot of time. Yeah, you don’t keep the house spotless. And it’s OK. It really is. The problem is that it’s not REALLY OK -- I don’t like the house a mess. It’s learning not just how to not feel guilty about it but not be bothered so much by it. I mean, I guess some people are able to have a spotless house, but I'm not one of them.

On another note, it’s also not true that no one has time for anything as a parent. I brew, I cook, I do a little school, but there is less time in a day simply because my time is divided. I think organization must really be key to being more productive and I’d like to figure out how to work that into my life. I’ve aready mention meals, I think, and the dishes goal (which is going great! Except for the one night when I cooked for a potluck and thought to myself “Oh, the dishes will wait.” Haha! Yes, they waited. And waited, for three days until the kitchen was smelly.

That’s another thing I have to touch on here. While it’s true that your child “won’t keep,” which usually is followed by something like “So don’t do the dishes” -- do you know how much worse it is if you don’t do the dishes? I just don’t understand how this could be true. I mean, what is your child going to be doing LATER when you do the HUGE pile of dishes that stinks to high heavens? Goodness, no, this is just a recipe for super-frustration. At least this is what I've found.