Nursing my son has not always been the most trouble-free process, shall we say... More on my end than his. He had a wonderful latch from the start along with the suction of a tornado, but after nearly 5 weeks of life outside of the womb, that peanut just wasn't getting enough of the good stuff. If you remember his one month pictures that were posted back in September, his newborn onesie was baggy over his loose, wrinkled skin :( I'll never forget the day when the lactation consultant weighed him and he was under his birth weight- at five weeks old! When she walked out of the room and all I could do was cry and tell those big eyes how sorry I was. So sorry.
So after weeks of pumping, consuming extra calories, drinking Mother's Milk tea and pounding herbal supplements, we finally saw an increase, but not quite enough. Insert Similac. We came back from the lactation consultant with a bag full of formula and I could barely look at it. I felt like a failure as a mom and a woman; I couldn't provide for my baby. And not only did I feel like a disappointment to my child, but to my husband who had definitely not budgeted for having to buy formula. Even though I was still going to nurse and just use the formula as a supplement, there was nothing more heart breaking than that hungry cry of frustration when Asher was desperately trying to get something that wasn't there. I could go on about the ridiculous things I had to endure and the many times I swore I was done with breastfeeding, but that's a whole other story.
For night feedings I nurse exclusively, meaning I don't mess around with preparing bottles. But now that Asher is really finding a rhythm with his sleep pattern, there is but one time he awakes to be fed. This is a joy considering that for the longest time he was programmed to wake up every 3 hours, but part of me mourned as I thought of the soon-to-be absence of these midnight meetings. There is nothing better than that chubby hand reaching heavenward to find my chin, my cheeks, my nose. Those sweet, contented sighs as though there's nothing more relaxing, more satisfying, than being with momma in this how-God-made-it-to-be kind of way. Then he nestles into me, searching for slumber as we rock into eternity. All of this in the orange glow casted from the night light as everything around us is soft and sleeping.
So am I crazy to think I'll miss awaking each night, in the middle of the night? All for an after hours rendezvous? Maybe, just maybe. But maybe the only thing that I'm really crazy for is the way the Maker has made me to love and connect with my son.