I am hanging on my the knot that is firmly tied at the end of my rope. It's been a struggle. Upon the arrival of day 18, the screamfest that Conrey had been partaking of suddenly came to a halt with but a few minutes of screaming the entire day opposed to the hour upon hour upon hour during the previous 17 days. I'm not exaggerating...like 12 hours out of every day he was screaming unless I was holding him or he was eating. ugh.
Do you know why I am so thankful that God finally got us through that phase as of yesterday? I woke up at 2 am this morning with the worst...the WORST earache that I have ever had. I thought that my eardrum was going to rupture. Thankfully, it has not. Serious pain. I took 3 ibuprofen (600 mg--prescription strength) just to make it tolerable. Not fun.
Let's back up to yesterday once again. Along with the screaming subsiding, Conrey also had a couple of bottles. I only nursed him at 10 p.m. before going to bed myself. It was a random decision that I decided to do this. I had been thinking about it for awhile, but just decided to buy formula and try it.
Back to the dr's office today...neither of the medicines that the dr wanted to give me are usable while nursing; the antibiotic nor the ear drops. So, when I feed Conrey at our usual 10 p.m. tonight, that will be it...the last...
I am having a hard time with this emotionally. I know that none of the guys out there can understand it. I know, Dust...blah, blah, blah...give me whatever kind of hard time you want. No more trips to the nursing mother's room at church to gain support and camraderie with those women. No more special one on one time with me and my baby that nobody in the whole world can share with him but me. That chapter will close tonight and will not reopen.
What makes it more difficult for me is that Mark is pretty adament right now that he doesn't want more babies. So, I am not only thinking about ending this with Conrey, but thinking about the fact that I could be done with this...forever.
I really don't like nursing. In fact, it's kind of a pain...it's kind of a burden in the big scheme of things. I mean, you're the ONLY ONE that can feed your baby. So, you stop whatever you're doing to meet their every need in this realm. You eat cold food. You miss the best part of the movie. You lose sleep. You get sore and engorged and lopsided and saggy. Noone...no, not a single person...can understand what I'm going through unless you have experienced a positive nursing relationship with your baby. I love it and I dread it. It is a blessing. It is a burden. It is...motherhood in it's very truest, deepest self.
So, as I look at the clock and see bedtime approaching for my little man, my eyes well up with tears and I take a deep breath. This is the first milestone of so, so many in his life that will lead him to eventually be an independent, self-sufficient child, adolescent, and then adult. So, darling little man, on this day when I lead you a step toward manhood, however absurd it may sound at the age of 9 months, I do so weeping for the time we've had together. Time that you will never remember and I will never, ever forget.