Just Me and my Little Nursling

     My son turned nine months old today. We spent our morning trying to get the perfect, pin-worthy picture of my baby boy while he rolled around, screamed and ate his 9 months number, which is fashioned to look like a little businessman's tie. I love this tradition but I won't miss it one bit. It's funny, the things that as a mom you absolutely adore but will be glad to put behind you when the time is right. As Archer and I approached his nine month birthday, I have also found myself anticipating another milestone in our near future. Weaning.

     My goals for nursing have always been dynamic. I never wanted to pressure myself and to be honest, I never thought that I would actually get to breastfeed at all. My body just didn't cooperate that much with the rest of motherhood. It's no secret that I struggled getting pregnant and once I got Archer in there finally, he didn't want to come out. It turns out, I'm not that great at either end of the whole pregnancy thing, conception or birth. So, I fully expected that breastfeeding was likely going to be a total shit show too. And while it was far from easy in the beginning, it was actually a practice that Archer and I thrived at relatively early on, much to my surprise.

     I never beat myself up on the rough days, though. While I was well versed in the countless benefits of breastfeeding and absolutely wanted to do so, I was a formula baby myself, or at least what passed for formula in the early eighties and I think I turned out just fine so I always left my options open. My overall goal was to breastfeed while home and pump while at work for a year, but in the early days I set smaller goals to get through. My first goal was six weeks since that is when most of the websites said it would start getting easier. I at least wanted to get to that point and see if it did actually get better. It did. So my next goal was three months, then six months. I hit both of those with only mild bumps in the road so I said I would nurse until Archer got teeth. He now has six beautiful pearly whites and while I admit that I do get bit every now and again and every time he gets me good I threaten to wean him, we are still going strong today.

     If nothing else, it has been interesting. I'm not sure if this is common or not, but around eight months old we moved into the acrobatics stage of nursing. This is a very exciting stage because between the biting and the cartwheels you never know what's coming next. It's like a very unnerving circus. He gets tired and I assume it is his little body trying to use up his last little bit of energy but he kicks and twirls and spins and takes my boob right along with him. It is as comfortable as it sounds. A few nights ago I ended up on my back with him standing, bent at the waist nursing while shaped like a stocky little L. He actually fell asleep like that and I let him because I was just too exhausted to care.

     So much of nursing is hilarious and those parts I will miss. A few weeks ago after installing Archer's new car seat, I attempted to nurse him in the back seat of my car for some privacy. I didn't realize until we were in there how little space we had with the new, bigger seat. I keep a towel with me because as all nursing mothers can attest, when your milk comes in it is a bit like a sprinkler; in all directions, spouting by itself. As always, some tiny noise distracted Archer right as my milk was coming in and he turned to look as milk began spraying everywhere. Now usually, this is when I am ready with the towel to cover the spray and protect us both. Well, with our new, huge car seat my towel was trapped with my right arm which was completely immobile. We both got hit but poor Archer took the brunt of it. He looked like a trashy chick in an eighties rock video. We were a mess. We were at the mercy of the boob and just had to wait it out. On a side note when we did finally finish that feeding and I lifted him off of my lap to exit the car I discovered that we had also been blessed with a poop explosion. So, you know, yay for motherhood!

     It's times like those when you find yourself looking forward to weaning, just as you do when your milk comes in when no baby is even attached to you and you are just sitting in public minding your own damn business. You feel that familiar sting, followed immediately by a sinking feeling in your gut and a damp feeling in your bra.  You find yourself counting the months. At these times I look forward to having my body and my personal space back. To not needing to know every private area of every public space in town in case my buddy gets hungry for a snack. To not looking around in paranoia in public that a client or other acquaintance may walk upon me with my boob hanging out. I look forward to not worrying about my supply and freezing my milk every night after work. I long for the days when I won't worry and fixate on the possibility that the freezer could break causing me to lose my whole back-up supply. (Every pumping mother's private hell-scape nightmare.) I am excited to wear one piece dresses again and clothing that makes my boobs inaccessible. I pray that we may even get longer stretches of sleep at night as well. These are the things that I look forward to, the bright spots of the months ahead. But if I'm being completely honest, I am already seriously grieving the end of our mommy Archer nursing adventure.

     Now, I know that a lot of people will be quick to tell me that I don't have to stop. There are a lot of very compelling reasons to continue breastfeeding for longer than a year and I am very supportive of any mother who chooses to do so. But for Archer and I, our journey is winding down. Not only do I feel that we are both emotionally ready but financially it is time as well.

     Here is a quick therapy accounting 101 lesson for anyone who ever looked at their insurance explanation of benefits and wondered why their therapist makes so much money for “just talking for an hour.” The reason is this, unless a client is sitting there looking at you, considered face to face time, then you are not getting paid. This makes sense until you consider how much work we do that is not face to face. Any telephone calls that we make for you are unpaid. Any paperwork or notes that we do are unpaid. Any forms that you need completed, faxes that you need sent or conflicts that need worked out with your insurance company or employer are made on unpaid time. We don't get benefits, nor paid time off of any kind. We don't get paid holidays, sick time or vacations.  If you schedule an appointment and cancel or just don't show up, then I sit in my office alone for free for that hour. I'm still working, but I'm not getting paid anything. So, in order to compensate for that, we do make a decent wage per hour depending on the insurance and while it is awesome to be able to pump and make my own schedule to accommodate that, it is a pricy perk. I save money on formula, but I lose much more in income. To pump twice per day, four days per week, I lose the equivalent of a full work day's pay every week. So, financially it is time for us to move on. It will also be nice to have eight additional appointment slots to fill per week since I am currently scheduling about three weeks out for sessions. I am pretty sure my clients are ready for the transition as well.

     So, my plan is to proceed as usual until my nursling's first birthday, then to slowly wean us both from the practice, cutting down on feedings and only pumping once per day at work until my milk supply dries up enough to stop completely without too much discomfort. The remaining milk he can have in his sippy cup while we read a bedtime story together at night.

     I have been researching how to wean and just as I was intimidated by nursing in the beginning, weaning absolutely scares the hell out of me. I realized with horror the other day that I don't even know how much my child actually eats in a day. One good look at those thighs and you know not to worry, but that doesn't help much when trying to figure out his actual daily intake. I have no clue how much food to take with me on outings, or how to tell if he is actually hungry or just looking to cuddle. I worry about him getting enough vitamins everyday and the loss of the amazing illness fighting powers of breast milk. But we will figure it out together, my buddy and I just like we did in the early days of nursing. We are a team.

     I will miss the convenience of being able to leave the house for the entire day taking nothing other than a few diapers, wipes and my boobies, which I might add are incredibly easy to carry. I will miss not having to worry at all about food regardless of how long we are away from home. I will miss the ease of night nursing and having those little hands looking for me in the dark.

     But more than anything I will miss those moments when I return from a long day at the office and I pick up my little man and hold him in my arms and within a few seconds of nursing feel his whole body relax while mine does the same. He looks up at me with those big blue eyes and we reconnect in a way that I cannot explain and it's like we never even left each others side. He gives me a small smile and I caress his head and cheek and all of my stress from the day is just instantly wiped away.

     Babies nurse for a lot of reasons. Obviously, they nurse when they are hungry and thirsty but they also nurse when they are scared or in pain or lonely or tired or even when they just miss you and crave that connection with you. That, I believe is the part that I will miss the very most. That special little thing that only he and I share. Those challenging times early on, struggling at three o'clock in the morning, when the rest of the house was silent, praying that this whole breastfeeding thing would get easier. It was just us. When we are at a bustling party but we share a quiet moment alone off to the side, it's just us. The peaceful little center of my universe with this little person who is my absolute reason for living. Just us, in our moment, doing something that only we share together. I will cherish those flashes of time for as long as I live and breathe.

     As we near the end of this adventure, I know that it will be replaced by many more. We have a lot of exciting times and quiet moments in our combined futures together. But it is these moments, when he was small enough to fit in my arms and share something so special, that will remain the sweetest in my mind. So with a mix of both joy and sadness in my heart we move forward to tackle the next milestone and conquer the next obstacle together. Me and my little nursling.