sabryn

Tried pumping tonight…no milk at all. Which explains her mini-meltdown last night.

Poor thing. She wants to nurse now. For the longest time, she wasn’t really interested, probably because it became such an issue for us both. But we watched a video of her nursing during one of her first nights home from the hospital (it’s adorable – she was laughing while she nursed), and now she wants to nurse again. And I can’t now. It makes me so damn sad.

I know nursing is, in the greater scheme of things, a small part of being a good mother. We do have other ways of bonding, and she did at least receive some breast milk during the first three months of her life. But I was so looking forward to nursing, and loved it so much. I hate the thought that this door is closed to me forever now.

What is happiness, anyway? Sounds like a stupid question, but it’s one I’ve given a lot of thought lately.

I always thought having a child would “complete” me. That once I did that, I would want for nothing more. All of my petty grievances would pale in comparison to this great thing I did. (I thought the same about getting a job and getting married, too. You’d think I’d learn.) And in many ways, it has completed me. (Which is bringing about a whole new set of problems…but I’ll save those for another post.) No matter what happens during the day, coming home to snuggle up with my smiling, laughing baby takes it all away. She fills holes I didn’t even know I had.

But.

I had this candy-coated idea of what maternity leave would be like. Three months of nothing but time with my child. Snuggling, playing, nursing, sleeping, going for walks in the sunshine (remember, the c-section was unplanned), showing her the world. (Those of you with children, try to control the snickering.) I thought coming back to work would be hell. And in a lot of ways, it is. But I learned something about myself while I was on leave: I need to use my brain. Just caring for my child and taking care of the housekeeping isn’t enough. I need the mental challenge. I also need the income, and the freedom; I hate relying on someone to take care of me, even if they swear they don’t mind doing it. Being dependent upon someone for everything from food and shelter to the smallest of errands whilst I hold the baby and watch bad daytime TV crushes me emotionally.

So you’d think this setup would be the best of both worlds. In the morning, I walk A next door to my parents’ house, where my dad (who dotes on A, to the point of thinking the rest of us don’t take good enough care of her) watches her for me. I come in to work free of the worry that something will happen to her, and also free of the financial burden of daycare. I work all day – doing work I love and am good at, drive home, and spend my evening with her and R. (Yes, I actually get to see R these days. Crazy, right?)

But it’s not enough. I spend more time here than I do with her, and I hate every second of it. I know I need the job, for all of the reasons mentioned above, but I resent the hell out of the job at the same time. So I’m trying (as posted yesterday) to find a happy medium. Maybe if I were working from my house, with A next door where I could see her at any moment, I wouldn’t feel so torn.

Or maybe not. But I have to try.

Just reviewed the list below. Since my last update, I’ve done these:

9. Quit smoking
49. Learn to knit (learned…I just don’t really enjoy it)
62. Take more pictures (I’ve taken more since August than I have in my whole life)
87. Do ten full push-ups (it’s amazing how strong your arms become when you have a 20-lb baby who loves to be held)
94. Have a baby

So that’s 83 of the 85. Odds are, I won’t have time to do the rest for a while…baby and work and housekeeping suck up all of my available time. So 83 is close enough for me.