Thursday, February 18, 2010

"boob milk"

Nursing has never been a fan of me and I am definately not it's greatest fan either. For all of my babies it's proven to be a stressful and tiring stage. If it's not getting thrush (and not knowing about it) then it's feeling like there just isn't enough supply, or just plain painful. With the first I had the time to sit and relax, but as you have more kids you realize that it's just not that time efficient to be nursing every 3 hours for 30-45 mins. And maybe I'm just being negative b'cos like I said, I'm not a fan, but I'm about 98% sure that I'm not the only Mom to feel this way.

This time around I went in with high hopes thinking it would be different. Hoping it would be different. But it's looking like it's going to be a downer, and we're fading fast.

Part of me is greatly saddened by this. So much so that for the past day I've been pumping every 2 hrs to try to increase my milk, and on already sore nipples, this is making me cringe. Being possibly our last baby I wanted it to be different. I want to treasure this little being in my arms and have his little hands hold onto my shirt a little longer. I want to feel the warmth of his little body pressed up against my stomach. I'll miss that. I already do. And so now I'm struggling with myself and wondering how long I try to make a go of this? How long I make myself endure so that I can hold onto those precious times? Is it worth it at the end of the day when my breasts throb in pain for a few hours every evening? Is it worth it to see him squirm and cry in frustration b'cos there just isn't enough?

Even as I write this I'm thinking more and more of just letting it go. Moving on. Our life is stressful enough without this selfish problem tacked on.

And so there you have it. I think I've made my decision. This will likely be the end of (as Keziah calls it) my boob milk.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

9 years ago....turning 32

This past weekend was a celebration of sorts. It was the anniversary of when Steve and I first met and it was my 32nd birthday. 9 years ago I remember walking into this strangers house. He was a youth pastor and in charge of the C & C group at one of the local churches. So I walk into his house and there's a woman in the kitchen, cooking something in the oven. I thought okay. Then I found out that Steve was in the shower. And I remember thinking "what kind of church group is this?". Of course it turned out that Steve was just a totally relaxing, oblilvious, kind of guy. It's amazing what marriage and 4 kids can do to a person, right? While he can still be kind of oblivious, he's not so relaxed anymore. Anyway, I'm sidetracking... So there I was sitting in his little living room on a ratty old sofa-bed that had been boughten second hand (and actually stayed with us for the first...well nearly 7 years of our marriage) and in walks this guy wearing a plaid shirt and army cargo pants. I remember liking the way his hair curled out from under his Roughrider baseball cap. And the rest, as they say, is history!

And I turned 32. Wow. I'm 32 and have 4 kids. That's unbelievable. On one hand I feel like I've lost my "youth". Aren't young people supposed to travel and see the world between 20-30? And here I am, getting married and popping out kids? Where's the sense of adventure in that? But on the other hand, now I'm done. I'm complete. I can still wrestle and hike with my kids. And then, a few years down the road (and I mean quite a few) when the kids are old enough, we'll still be young enough to go see the world (here's hoping anyway) and do our adventuring. Our eventual goal is to Winnobago our way around N. America...what can I say? We're simple folk.

But until then, we'll just have to sit back and reflect on our "wealth", perhaps not in the way that other people our generation do, by distance travelled or such, but in the laughter of our kids and the way they see the world around them...even if it is only in our own backyard.

Monday, February 08, 2010

it's all good

Alot has happened since last I wrote. Not so much in my own life, but certainly in the lives of others. Here and all over the world. And emotionally it's been exhausting!

In case you've been living under a rock...

Haiti.

Isaiah James May.

I just read this story and now I'd like to share it with you. I'm sure there are stories like this created every day. But rarely do we hear about them, and that's a type of tragedy. So thank you Kelle for sharing your story.