Well, after 376 days of nursing, we have decided it is time to wean my boy. It is difficult to imagine NOT nursing as it has pretty well been my life for the past year. Out of curiosity, I did the math and found that I produced over 11,280 oz of milk for my boy since the day he was born. That is over 88 gallons! For the first 6 months, I nursed him every 3 hours for about 25 minutes during the day. Then, when i started school again, I pumped every 3 hours for 45 minutes. That averages out to about 1,128 hours over the past year simply providing nourishment for my growing boy.
I am looking forward to having my body back and not having to choose clothes or bras that will be "easy to nurse in." Not having to wear breast pads everywhere I go to avoid embarrassing leaking incidents. Not having to worry about lugging a huge electric breast pump and cooler to and from school or having to bring a manual breast pump on dates with my husband so that I dont get too sore from missing a feeding, not having to find a corner to sit in when he gets hungry, and not having to be the only one to wake up in the middle of the night because he needs mommy. But, at the same time, I am mourning this transition.
The intimacy my son and I have when he nurses is such a gift. In a book called "Touching: the human significance of the skin," by Ashley Montagu, it is suggested that the human gestation period continues outside of the womb. While newborn animals such as cows and horses are immediately able to walk and, in many ways, fend for themselves, human infants are completely helpless and dependent upon their mother for feeding, mobilization, toileting and even playing. In relation to their lifespan, the gestation period in animals is much longer than in humans, and they are born far more prepared to face the challenges and dangers of the world than a newborn infant.
While physiogically this early expulsion from the womb is due to the fetal head to maternal pelvis size ratio, the lack of development of the newborn infant suggests that the human gestation period was intended to continue outside of the womb perhaps to facilitate an emotional and physical bond earlier on in the infant's life. Montague suggests that the gestation period is considered to be from the time of conception until the child is able to independently mobilize. Just as the baby is connected to the mother while in utero, this physical proximity is meant to continue on until the child is able to crawl or walk. Of course this does not mean the child should never be set down, as this would prevent the child from ever learning to mobilize, but it does indicate a closeness between the mother and infant.
This theory is evidenced by the manner in which we nurse. Unlike other mammals, humans must hold the newborn close to their body, especially during the early stages of infancy, in order to obtain an effective latch and properly nourish the baby. It is almost as if nature is forcing intimacy between mother and baby, yet we continue to fight it with formula, miseducation from health care professionals, and early introduction of solids - but this is not the point of this blog... sorry.
My boy took his first steps a few days ago, so the gestation period is coming to a close. In many ways, this transition goes far beyond simply ending a breastfeeding relationship. In the beginning of 1st Samuel is a powerful story of a mother's strength. Hannah, the wife of Elkanah, was unable to bear children. She told God that if He gave her a son, she would give him back to the Lord all the days of his life. Sure enough, she gave birth to a son named Samuel. She expressed to her husband the importance of keeping Samuel with her until he was weaned and he encouraged her to do what she felt was right. After Samuel was weaned, she brought him to the priest and dedicated him to God. She actually left Samuel at the church to be raised by the clergy.
This story was revolutionary to me. While I am not taking Judah to my church for my pastor to raise, weaning Judah represents a time of transition from complete physical dependence on me, his mother, to turning to his true Father, Jesus Christ. Soon, my son will not depend on me for any physical nutrients. Unlike this past year, my main concern will no longer be ensuring that I am providing enough nutrition to facilitate his growth and development. From now on, my most important job is to encourage total dependence on his Creator. His spiritual nutrition and emotional fulfillment must come first and foremost from above. I am challenged by Hannah's bravery and strength. She knew that her time had come to an end with her son and I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to keep her word and dedicate Samuel. This dedication, in my case, is obviously symbolic, but a challenge nonetheless. For all of Judah's life I have had the answer to every fear, bumped head, bad dream, insecurity and insomnia. Judah has to learn now to depend on someone far greater and more equiped to provide for him... and I must learn to let him.
Judah is being born, leaving this prolonged gestation period and entering into a larger world with endless possibilities for success and failure. The pains I feel letting him go, I call emotional labor pains. Lord, I give you control. I trust that you love this child far more than I am even capable of. You have blessed me with this period of interdependence and emotional oneness with my child and now, I must return him to you. Please show me how to help lead his path into your arms and show him your love and compassion and nurturing spirit. This year has only been a glimpse of what you long for with us... complete dependence on you for our protection, healing and nutrients. Thank you.
Ontogenesis of an amateur mom
Wednesday, 16 March 2011
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
I am doing
I am a mom.... I have a son... Honestly, I feel like i am pretending, playing a never-ending game of "house" when I hear those words come out of my mouth. While my classmates are arguing with their moms about how unfair it is to have to chip in for rent, I am rocking my sweating, snotty, drooling baby boy through a high fever and sore tummy. I am a wife. I am a mom. I have no idea what I am doing.
Why is it that I am 22 and feel like a kid, still unprepared to face the world on my own? My mom has always been the image of womanhood for me. She carries herself with confidence, wisdom and grace. As far back as I can remember, I have wanted to be like her. She always had an answer and wise words to guide me through difficult situations. I guess I assumed I would magically transform into the amazing mother that she has always been once I had my own children. But here I am, the same age she was when she had two kids, and I still feel like stuck at two years old, whining when i don't get what i want and incapable of seeing past my own reality. Does my son see me as that picturesque mother I have always seen in my mom? Does he think I have it all together, full of wise answers for the world's most mind-boggling questions? Did my mom feel just as lost as I do?
I don't have answers for the challenges to come... How will i potty train? How will I teach him to share? How will i show him how to ride a bike? How will I teach him to stop hitting his sister? How will I show him the importance of integrity? How will I teach him how to do long-division? How will I help him get through the heart-break of death? These questions terrify me. I am not prepared to teach a boy how to be a man. I am still growing up myself.
But I can face today. I know what to do when my boy reaches up to me after tripping over his own hands and biting his tongue when his face hit the floor. I know what to do when he wakes up at 2 in the morning with a fever of 102. I know what to say when he points at an unfamiliar object and says "Was dat?" Or what to do when all he will eat is mandarin oranges and cheerios. I may not know what to do tomorrow, but somehow I find the grace to make it over each new hurdle. I make mistakes every day, but I love my boy with all that I am and love covers a multitude of sins. God must have seen something in me because he trusted me with the most precious treasure I could ever imagine. I don't know what i am doing, but I am doing.
Why is it that I am 22 and feel like a kid, still unprepared to face the world on my own? My mom has always been the image of womanhood for me. She carries herself with confidence, wisdom and grace. As far back as I can remember, I have wanted to be like her. She always had an answer and wise words to guide me through difficult situations. I guess I assumed I would magically transform into the amazing mother that she has always been once I had my own children. But here I am, the same age she was when she had two kids, and I still feel like stuck at two years old, whining when i don't get what i want and incapable of seeing past my own reality. Does my son see me as that picturesque mother I have always seen in my mom? Does he think I have it all together, full of wise answers for the world's most mind-boggling questions? Did my mom feel just as lost as I do?
I don't have answers for the challenges to come... How will i potty train? How will I teach him to share? How will i show him how to ride a bike? How will I teach him to stop hitting his sister? How will I show him the importance of integrity? How will I teach him how to do long-division? How will I help him get through the heart-break of death? These questions terrify me. I am not prepared to teach a boy how to be a man. I am still growing up myself.
But I can face today. I know what to do when my boy reaches up to me after tripping over his own hands and biting his tongue when his face hit the floor. I know what to do when he wakes up at 2 in the morning with a fever of 102. I know what to say when he points at an unfamiliar object and says "Was dat?" Or what to do when all he will eat is mandarin oranges and cheerios. I may not know what to do tomorrow, but somehow I find the grace to make it over each new hurdle. I make mistakes every day, but I love my boy with all that I am and love covers a multitude of sins. God must have seen something in me because he trusted me with the most precious treasure I could ever imagine. I don't know what i am doing, but I am doing.
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