Lately Isaac’s been doing downward dogs and scooting up a storm while I’ve been getting increasingly more nervous about him taking off crawling around this non-baby-proofed house. I can just imagine him shocking himself on our computer cords or somehow managing to pull down our bookshelf as he tries to stand.
So this past weekend I made an attempt to clean up around the house in preparation for baby-proofing. While I was in the baby’s room, I put away a bunch of stuff we’re no longer using.
Some things were easy to put away – lanolin, the many pacifiers that Isaac just didn’t take to [probably a blessing in disguise], and birthing books were all happily taken to their new homes without any issues. But others had more of a significance to them and were pretty emotional to say goodbye to.
I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I loaded the prenatal heartbeat monitor into a box because, rather than guessing about Isaac’s well-being, I can simply look at him and know that he’s safe and thriving. And I literally felt my body relax as I tossed the crumpled, tear-stained notebook I used to record Isaac’s every ounce of milk and bowel movement in when he just couldn’t gain into the trash.
And then I got to the breastpump. The breastpump I was attached to for at least 6 hours a day every.single.day for Isaac’s first 4+ months of life as I tried like hell to up my supply, which never truly came in. The breastpump I used every hour on the hour for almost two weeks straight – deliriously convinced that I could will my body to create sustenance for my son. I literally shed more blood, sweat and tears at this piece of equipment than I ever could have imagined, so zipping it up and placing it back in its box was pretty momentous for me.
I also got to pack up the SNSs, as it became very clear this weekend that my breastfeeding relationship with Isaac is over. I’ve been nursing with the supplemental nursing system at least once a day until this past weekend and planned to allow the weaning process to happen organically, and it did. Isaac began getting incredibly frustrated with the slow flow and started biting me. He’s doing wonderfully with the homemade goat formula and with his solids. So it was time to stop. For the past few days my body has been adjusting to no longer producing even the small amount I had [let’s just say the process is pretty gnarly physically and emotionally].
While it’s sad to let go of the ideals I created for myself since I could imagine having children, it’s also liberating to let go and have one less thing to worry about when it comes to Isaac. Of course, there will always be something to worry about [next up – crawling!], but it is an incredible relief to finally have the breastfeeding saga behind us.
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