The Last Time I Fed You

Dear Zoe,

You may not know it right now, but last night was the last time I fed you milk. It breaks my heart into a million pieces to think that we will never be that close, physically, again. As I sit here, tears streaming down my face, I have so many things I want to tell you about our nursing journey together.

During the first hour after you were born, you were nuzzled up to my breast and sucking away. You knew exactly what you needed to do, I don’t know how, but this is the miracle of birth, it all just comes together. I remember the nurse came to check to see how you were nursing and she had to remind me to make sure that you were able to breathe through your nose, one thing I had neglected to notice. However, I sorted ourselves out and you were able to breath and feed at the same time.

I didn’t know what I was doing at the beginning, should I feed both sides, how long should you feed, how much milk should be there, should I pump and feed you from a bottle, should my breasts have grown triple the size over night, how am I supposed to hold you, which positions to use? There were so many things that I didn’t know and all you need to know is that I did my best to figure out our “routine” and our own way of becoming master experts at breastfeeding.

The first 6 months were pretty easy, whenever you cried I would feed you and you were happy. We had no routine, I didn’t feel that it was necessary to watch the clock, like I said when you cried I fed you, no matter where we were or what we were doing. It worked out well.

The 6 month mark came around quite quickly and it was time to start introducing solids, which is when I started to panic a little, thinking about how this will affect milk supply. And it did, but apparently that was normal, I just hadn’t read that far into my book to know what happens. I was so focused on making the right food, the right consistency, the right way to use a spoon and of course the right way to save your life if you started to choke that I didn’t think so much about milk supply.

At around 8 months, I felt my milk supply was dwindling and that’s when I decided to hibernate for 4 days to get the milk flowing again. We spent 4 days in bed feeding every 2 hours and eating so many magical formulas that by the end of the 4 days I was bursting again. We did it together, without you I couldn’t have done it, and you were oh so patient with me as I made you drink and drink.

We spent the next few months continuing this back and forth from solids to milk and it worked out great. You got bigger and stronger and started to crawl and walk and before I knew it was your first birthday. Such a milestone, we made it one year together and that was always my goal and after one year I would stop feeding you and you would be free to go. However, I wasn’t ready and to be honest, neither were you. You would often come to me for some milk, so we continued.

In the last month, I have questioned myself about whether it was really necessary to keep feeding you your morning and night-time feeds. One part of me would think, “Why not, it’s so great for her immune system and if you have the milk and she still wants it just keep going”. Then there was the selfish part of me that was saying, “Just stop and let yourself be free. You can get your life and body back after two years with this baby”. And last night I decided it was the perfect time and the right time.

Weird to say the right time, as you had been fighting a virus for the past 2 days but listen to me, it was the perfect time. Unfortunately, you had missed your afternoon nap, due to our doctors appointment and I was trying to keep you awake as long as possible so that you could go to sleep around 6. But 5 pm hit and you didn’t want to wait any longer.

You stood by my legs, lifted your arms to me and whimpered so I would know you were hungry. I lifted you and tucked you under my right arm, lifted my shirt and off you suckled. I sat and watched you, looking at your perfect face and shiny hair, marvelling at the thought that I had made you. You were a part of me and I am a part of you. I also looked at how big you had grown and that you are no longer a helpless little baby anymore, and that soon you won’t need me for this. I quickly pushed this thought out of my head, because, you see, I didn’t want to accept that there will be a day that you won’t be lying in my arms and you won’t need me for milk.

I switched you to the left side. Again, I couldn’t stop looking at you. Your eyes were closed and I knew, that very soon, you were going to fall asleep in my arms. You kept nodding off and then coming back for more and eventually you were gone. You had stopped sucking but had stayed in that position. As I started adjust myself, your little mouth parted and instead of me you grabbed your thumb and in it went. We stayed like that for a little while. It was the most peaceful feeling I have ever experienced, your body curled up next to me, your cheeks were rosy red, like a painted doll, and your skin slightly glowing from the effort of feeding and from the warmth our bodies generated off each other. It was at that moment that I said that was the last time. I wanted that to be the moment I remembered from this experience. I didn’t want to give us a deadline, having an off switch would just stress me out. But this moment, at exactly 15 months old was going to be the last time I nurse you.

Now, I feel this great big shift, like the world moved a little. I feel a sense of grief, which is probably why I don’t feel great today, suffering from an achy body and temperature. It is an emptiness I am going to have to fill and with your help we are going to find new ways to bond and be together.

Just always remember that you can jump into my arms whenever you wish. Don’t think I gave up on you by stopping, see it as a new beginning to becoming a bigger and stronger person. You are the funniest, strongest most beautiful little person out there and I am so proud of you for growing up so wonderfully. You have mastered independence by going to kindergarten without a fuss. You cried for the first 10 minutes of the first day and that was it. You go to kindergarten with the biggest heart and with so much passion and love for everyone. When your teachers tell me about your day and what you did, I just explode with pride. When you cheer me on during our running or cycling trainings, my heart skips a beat, because you support me as much as we support you.

From this day on, we will both find other ways to love and cherish one another. It will give us more time to hug and kiss and tell each other how much we love each other. We can spend more time talking and more time dressing up and more time watching Spongebob Squarepants. Time hasn’t stopped and it will only get faster, however, we can enjoy more things together this way. I did it for you, like I always have and always will.

I love you, baby girl.

Mummy xxx

 

 

World Travellers

I would classify myself as a very competent and seasoned traveller. I have lived abroad since I was 4 years old, travelling the world from homes to vacations. I know the ins and outs of airport procedures and don’t mind the sitting and the waiting.

When I was younger, my family, 4 children and Mum and Dad, would march along the floors, quickly trying to find the gate so that we could camp out until boarding time, unless we were lucky enough to make it into a lounge. Big brother dawdling at the back of our clan, most likely playing on his gameboy or blasting out some kind of music, me, carrying my backpack full of Barbies and one important Spot, younger sister, running to keep up the pace most likely on the verge of cryingbecause her little legs couldn’t keep up the pace mile after mile of airport corridors. Mum pushing the pushchair with baby and hundreds of bags hanging off the handles and Dad gripping tightly to all passports, tickets and visas making sure to get his family to the gate without  incident.

As we trekked along, there are of course the looks from all the other worldly passengers. Most looking at our family like we were a circus show. Others thanking their lucky stars we have passed their gate and not catching their flight. Others praying and wishing has hard as they could that they we walk straight on by. And then there was, of course, the very unlucky few who saw us approach and wonder what they did to deserve us on their 13 hour flight. There eyes would scan to see if they could see where on this jumbo jetwe were sitting.

We were the typical travelling family. We took advantage of the baggage allowance and I am sure that most of the time we exceeded on that. Mother and father trying to keep their children as occupied aspossibly possible. Children opening their bags, dumping toy after toy on the floor, a foreshadow of what is bound to be a lost toy. And then there was the constant moaning of hunger, tiredness and of course a general sense of being fed up of herding.

Once on the plane, there was the inevitable fight over which person got to sit by the window or who would sit with who. We were often separated due to the fact that we were such a big family that they couldn’t sit us all together. Mum was not happy with this arrangement, which would cause a few more disagreements. There was always bound to be one broken TV or someone had a faulty chair. This was something we just had to deal with and if we were lucky Dad would sacrifice his seat to keep the peace.

It was always plain sailing after take off. We managed to keep ourselves occupied with games and movies for 13 hours. We slept great too unless you were the baby who managed to cry the entire flight. Dad and Mum took it in turns to walk up and down the aisle trying to soothe their baby. On one occasion the baby screaming that she just had to get off the plane mid-air.

Now, it is my turn to be the mum. My turn to hide my panic and fear as we travel for the first time together. My turn to pack and check the bags. My turn to make sure everyone is happy and content. And my turn to have heads staring at my family as everyone glares at the newborn baby  praying and wishing this baby does not cry the entire flight. I cannot say what Miss Zoe is going to be like or what her reaction is going to be when flying. All I have up my sleeve, literally, is milk and hoping this is going to be enough to keep her calm and collected.

 

Our First Week Together

Today marks a week since we have been home. I cannot believe that Baby Zoe is already 10 days old. I will admit that I have cried a few times when I have looked back at pictures of her when she was born and when we were in the hospital waiting to go home. The time has gone by so quickly, I feel like I have just blinked and here we are. One thing I have learnt in the past week is not to wish time away.

Yes, we have the rest of our lives together, but she will only be small, like this, for a limited time. And no matter what, we are going to enjoy it. I may have broken a few rules already, such as co-sleeping or running when she makes a little sound. But hey, I’m only human and just a new mum, so give me break.

We have enjoyed all of our visitors so far. Zoe seems to be quite content at being swapped from arm to arm. I’m sure once she gets a bit older she will have a problem with that. So if you want an uninterrupted cuddle from her you had best come over as soon as possible. Both sets of grandparents are very proud and completely in love with our little love bug. Nannie has had the most cuddles, but she deserves that afterall the food and cleaning she has helped us with over the last week. Big big thank you for that xxx

What we do all day is sleep, eat, pee and poop. Pretty much in that order too. Although, the poop business seems to be taking over and is racing up to the front of the line. Especially now with all the explosions we have as soon as we change nappies or when we get out the bath. I think Zoe is waiting for those special moments to leave her mark on every surface in the house, a bit like marking her territory. Mummy and Daddy might need to wear protective clothing if it continues, which I am assuming it does.

There is no routine yet. We are taking each day as it comes. We have no problems during the day. However, nighttimes seem to be a biggest challenge. We cannot prepare ourselves to know whether it will be a good night or bad night. If Zoe is awake from 8-10pm it is more likely to be a good night. I say that now, and it is 9pm and she is fast asleep, so it might be a bad night. I will let you know. I seem to have trouble staying awake past 10pm and if Zoe is awake or wakes up, between 10-12pm, I do get a nice big nudge, and up I get. After 2 hours of deep sleep I will hear any sound or movement, so I clearly need those 2 hours of deep sleep to recharge myself; that’s for Daddy in case he ever reads my posts.

We have enjoyed a few walks and even managed to go to two restaurants. She slept through the meals, to my relief, and I did not have to try any breastfeeding in public. I still don’t know if I, or the world, is  quite ready for squirts of milk or a big display of my body. I have been practicing to be more discreet but it is not easy and it is just something we are going to have brace when the time comes. I also have to get myself out alone with the baby. So we have a few daunting tasks we have to overcome, but I am sure we will be fine.

I spend a lot of time just staring at Zoe, it could be seen as a little creepy. But I am just fascinated by all her little facial expressions and I am trying to get to know her personality. One thing I know, she is just like me and has a very ticklish back. If you stroke her back, she will arch herself and screw up her little face and pout her lips. I just love it and then I start kissing her. I didn’t know I could kiss her so much. She does like to play with Daddy in the middle of the night and I have woken on a few occasions and they are just staring and playing with each other. I am sure there is going to be a special “Daddy girl” bond, which will develop into Zoe wrapping him around her little finger. But I will leave that for him to deal with later on in life, but the thought of it does have me chuckling inside.

Our first week has definitely been an exciting one. And our bonds continue to grow stronger and stronger. Our house is just filled with love for the little baby, you can almost smell it in the air. Just looking at our baby girl puts a smile on both Mummy and Daddy’s faces. It also causes Mummy and Daddy to ignore conversations and forget things but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I also couldn’t have asked for a better first week than this.

 

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, the Clock Says Tick Tock

The clock is ticking, constantly ticking, just not moving forward. It’s funny, each  morning I wake up and pull the covers away to see if I’m still pregnant and every night I say, tomorrow she is coming. One morning, very soon, I won’t still be pregnant and my last thought of the day will come true and she will arrive “tomorrow”.

I was convinced that I would not go into the month of July pregnant, but here we are and my due date is literally one stone throw away. As Baby Zoe grows so do I. Actually, I don’t know who is growing faster, she or I. What I do know is she moves around like a little worm with very little space to slither about. Her little feet, up by my ribs, have me clutching my stomach in pain with every kick she makes. Soon, all this will be over and I may just admit I might miss it.

As, I sit on the floor writing, I do have a long list of things to occupy myself with. Of course, there is the cleaning of the house. This does seem to take up a lot of time, I’m not sure if I’m just bad at cleaning or if it is because I want everything to be perfect. Probably a bit of both. I have bought some new materials to make some more super awesome headbands. I will paint my nails, I might even try to bend over and paint my toe nails. That is a whole days program. There is the repacking of my hospital bag. I know I want to double-check everything and as the days have gone on by I have bought some new things, which means I should switch some stuff over.

I was keeping myself occupied by trying to use all the methods possible to get this baby to drop and get things moving. I have officially given up on that because nothing works. I now put my hands up and am letting nature takes its course. There are a bunch of things you could try to get things moving, spicy food, walking etc, you all know them. I doubt they work and I think their only purpose is to keep women occupied during their final days of being pregnant. It was fun trying spicy food, or eating a fresh pineapple but Zoe is still stuck up high.

I went to the doctor yesterday and he did not have much news of any kind of  progressive movements. He said that everything was perfect, the baby was a little small at the moment, so would be great to keep her cooking for a little while longer. Not sure how long I can cross my legs for. He said she has not dropped yet, which I thought weird because I was pretty sure  she was pressing down on my bladder, so I don’t believe that mumbo jumbo about you will know when she has dropped because you will use the toilet more. My toilet and I have a pretty good connection these days but my wallet does not like opening up for the amount of toilet paper we are going through. I am 100% closed and he has booked me in for a follow-up appointment next Tuesday but did say I could go into labour any day. So there was no concrete answer on that front, just like everything else during pregnancy. I really shouldn’t have bothered to ask him but of course I did.

July 1st has come and is almost gone, today is not the day. But, we are one day closer to her big day. I got my hair done this morning so I don’t have to worry about that for a few weeks. Nelson has a foot infection so that will keep me occupied for a couple of days until he is healed. I thought he was enjoying having his Mummy home but perhaps he still needs a little more attention.

 

36 Weeks: How am I feeling…

I am now getting impatient, uncomfortable, swollen, hot, sweaty, and a bunch of other unpleasant adjectives, which I could describe my comfort levels right now but I will save you from my negativities. Even though I don’t feel so great I had quite a pleasant week. I managed to get all the shopping done, packed my hospital bag and actually had fun.

At the beginning of the week I was pretty confident that my body was starting to get itself ready. Went for my doctor’s appointment, but I clearly don’t have that mother’s instinct down to an art yet, as I was completely wrong about my readiness. I was pretty deflated because I was so sure I felt things were getting started. Baby Zoe is exactly where she needs to be, just not in my arms yet. The doctor gave us a very long list of appointments to attend to in the coming days, along with different kinds of tests I need to have. So things are slowly on the move, just not fast enough for me.

The weather is extremely hot and humid. My legs and feet are not dealing with this as well as I would have liked. They are very sore and painful. Sleeping has become a lost cause and one I don’t fight with anymore. I just get on with the night and if I fall asleep it feels like winning the marathon. I have learnt to embrace my bump and even got myself in a bikini and went to the beach on the weekend. May not seem like a great achievement but behind my facade I am extremely self-conscious, especially given my wardrobe can no longer be classified as “small” in size but all items must now be placed in the”does not fit” category. But I was brave and got myself to the beach and enjoyed the sun and water.

I did have a slight “scare” on Friday and Saturday. I was experiencing some pretty intense Braxton Hicks contractions again. These were a lot stronger than anything I had experienced previously and kept me up all night. They were not so painful just extremely uncomfortable. They caused my back to ache and no position or movement seemed to stop them but they didn’t get sore or painful and did not have any kind of rhythm. I knew they weren’t real labor contractions, but a part of me really believed they were going to become something big. During the night they did not ease off and on Saturday morning, whilst out shopping, I thought my waters broke, but turned out that was a false alarm as well and something I would like to forget ever happened. Baby Zoe seems to be having a lot of fun down by my bladder and something we will have a chat about when she is older.

We are now in week 37 and officially full term and it really can be any day now. Everyone is on standby and whenever I make a call the first response I get is, “Is she coming?”. I have thought about doing some practice drills, as now I am pretty bored at home, but I am not sure those drills would be well appreciated by the majority, just by me. Of course, I have had a few good old wives tales to know when she is ready, for example, when the weather changes I will go into labor, when the line from my pubic bone joins my belly button she will come, spicy food, walking, exercise. Weather is a bit cooler today, she is not here, the line is already touching my belly button, she is not here and you get the picture. But I like to play the game and it is always fun, so if anyone has any more fun old wives tales just let me know. It is supposed to get cooler over the next few days, so who knows, and I will probably watch a scary movie see if that moves things along too.

As for this week, I am home and my biggest plans are all my appointments with various doctors and nurses. Keeping track of fetal movements can be quite a tedious task but safe to say everyday we have a bout of hiccups and, of course, her kung fu  moves, apparently my ribs and bladder are the enemies.