Isn’t it funny how our “Aha” moments pop up out of nowhere sometimes? I had been doing some serious soul-searching lately on my indecision about weaning. As background, I was never a breast is best person. I figured I’d try breastfeeding, give it a month and a good solid effort, but if it was too much I was perfectly happy switching over to formula. In fact, I committed what many consider to be a cardinal sin of breastfeeding…having formula in the house before the baby was born. Now some will remember my freak-outs and visits with the lactation consultants back in September. Not long after that I became sort of zen about it. I was going to give it my month and then decide without regrets or looking back what to do.
Well, Sweetness will be 8 months old next week and I am starting to have some serious ambivalence when I think about weaning. She’s in the process of dropping her night feeding and even that makes me sad. And I’ve been trying to figure it all out. Why am I so invested in something that was never very important to me? I’ve been driving poor Mr H crazy talking about it ad naseum when I had my “aha” moment yesterday. It just came out, as if I had been knowing it all along.
I was talking to a co-worker (and good friend) who just came back from maternity leave and our converstation went something like this:
Co-worker: “I can’t believe you’re still nursing and pumping at 8 months. You always thought that wouldn’t be you”
Me: “Don’t be surprised, it’s purely selfish”
CW: “There’s nothing selfish about it, plus you aren’t one of those martyr people, you never even mention it.”
Me: “It’s completely selfish, this is the longest time my body has worked and I don’t want to go back to being broken.”
Just like that it came out of my mouth. I wasn’t even aware I even thought it. And that’s really it. Right now my body is doing exactly what it is supposed to be doing…making milk. I still haven’t had a post-partum period. I don’t want to go back to messed up cycles and the like. Because then I’m broken again.
I wish realizing had helped me come to terms about what to do in regard to weaning. But at least now that I better understand myself, hopefully I can start making progress in that direction.
Look at me, 2 posts in 2 days!!
Just a little disclaimer that posts like this used to drive me CRAZY, so I won’t be the least bit offended if someone decides not to read.
I went back to work in January then took another leave in mid February. I say I did this because Sweetness needs PT but in really, it was for me. Work was fairly understanding and let me come in just one day a week.
I’ve had a love/hate relationship with working one day a week. On one hand, I love being home with Sweetness. She is just the most fun right now, learning something new every day. But I am someone who hates not giving 100% and not doing my job well. And being in 1 day a week just sucked. I would start dreading it the day before. I would have to spend the beginning part of the day getting caught up in changes to treatment plans and then would spend the rest of the day feeling completely ineffective because while my position is important to the development of the program, in terms of day to day operations, I’m not missed that much. And feeling that replaceable kind of sucks.
So starting in April I’ve been going in 2 days a week. Mostly to ease myself back into full time, which will have to happen in May. And that thought I really hate. I’ve gotten over all my issues with the Spanish speaking nanny. I made myself some flashcards and we’ve gotten pretty good at communicating to each other. As an aside, I think she really appreciates the effort I’ve made to learn some Spanish (the other family in the nanny share just calls her son to translate for her) and suddenly it seems that she knows more english than she did before. But I just don’t want to work full time at all. I know it is short term and that in September I’ll be job sharing, working 3 days a week…but I don’t want to do that either.
This will probably be controversial and I am not saying that fertile parents don’t love their kids, but I really think that in light of everything it took to get Sweetness here, I don’t want to miss a single second of her growing up. I could care less that I hardly ever shower, that money is tight, that today I left the house with dried up Puffs on my shoulder. What I care about is that she takes her best naps snuggled up on my chest, that her whole body smiles when Mr H or I walk into a room, and that her giggle is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I don’t want to take a single moment of all that for granted because I know that I am incredibly lucky and blessed to have been given such a gift.
Of course none of this is news to anyone. Most working moms miss their kids during the day and wonder if they are doing the right thing. But for some reason, the idea of working sends me right back to the brink of being depressed all the time. And I hated when I was depressed all the time. Plus I always figured that I was depressed all the time because I wanted a baby and couldn’t have one. Now I’ve got the baby and the depression comes back?!?! I don’t think it’s PPD, since she’s almost 8 months old, just ‘plain ol I hate how some things in my life are’ depression.
Which is equally ridiculous because I really am the luckiest person in the world. And I know it. I’ve got a husband who is an equal partner in pretty much every way and a healthy happy baby. What right do I have to complain??
There are no good answers here I know. We have no money and are slowly blowing through our savings. And while we’re very lucky that Mr H’s job is extremely secure, as is mine, it is still a bad time to be out of work. I guess mostly I’m just surprised that if we won the lottery, I would walk away and not look back. I always thought I’d be a super mom and wouldn’t want to give up my career. But now it’s career….what career? And super mom…what a joke!
Kudos to you if you’ve read through all these ramblings. I so miss blogging, getting it out there usually helps me to see everything clearer. Here’s to getting over myself, right?
Once again, my vow to become a better blogger has failed. This time I at least had some good reasons. And so once again, the last few weeks in bullets
– A few days after my last post, Mr H’s soon to be 99 year old nana fell and broke her hip. Nana is an amazing woman. She was still living on her own, doing her own cooking, cleaning, and shopping until August. In August she got what her doctor called “the worst case of ge.nital h.erpes” he had ever seen. Mr H and his mom where mortified but I so hope to be 98 years old and getting STD’s. Anywho, after that they moved her up to NY into assisted living. When she broke her hip, the doc said she had the body of a 70 year old. They did a hip replacement surgery on her and she’s now in rehab. Imagine an extremely stubborn person who had been doing everything a certain way for the last 99 years now re-learning how to walk, sit, put her shoes on, etc. It is not going well.
– About 2 days after Nana’s hip surgery, Mr H’s step dad found out he needs to heart valves replaced. This is open heart surgery. At this point it becomes somewhat comical as he has diagnosed, but untreated, OCD and anxiety induced hypochondria. Cutting someone like that’s chest open and cracking his ribs….definitely worst nightmare. My poor MIL has started taking meditation classes
– About 2 days after we found out he needed heart surgery, my mom had another breast cancer scare. She was sent for round after round of mammograms and ultrasounds and ultimately told to come back for follow up in 3 months. This has happened before but it doesn’t get any less scary, especially because my aunt (her sister) has been fighting breast cancer for the last 6 years.
So this is why (along with two trips to NY, one to FL and a drama filled visit from my dad) I fell back off the blogging wagon, my apologies…
more to come soon (I promise) on my working mom guilt and how IF is still coloring so much…