Month: May 2019

My son is a happy healthy 9 months old. Around 6 months of age, I decided to phase out breastfeeding and introduce formula.  I am often asked the questions – when and how – and here is the just of it.

Firstly let me say to me breastfeeding was an important part of my mothering journey and I am so blessed that I got to feed my child in this way.  However, I must confess that when those first few teeth started making their appearance – I started considering whether it wasn’t the best time to make the move.  As cute as those little munchers were, I did not want to experience the dreaded nipple bite!

There was also the reality that I was starting to feel very tied down by the breastfeeding thing. I was not one to feed in public mostly because my child hated being covered, that said we made it work when it was necessary. The bigger issue was having to be there with my child as and when he needed to feed – for however long that took – every time.  There was also ensuring that I had expressed enough milk for him.  It was becoming more demanding and I was starting to feel drained.  

So, it was New Year’s Day and I bought formula. No better time to start something new right? I felt that my son had received a good base and I started with one bottle feed a day along with breastfeeding.  I had already introduced the bottle to him around 8 weeks so that he would be OK being fed by his dad, so fortunately him taking a bottle was not going to be an issue. 

I enjoyed the ease of mixing the milk.  I would position my boy snuggly on my lap while he happily drank the bottle. He even learnt to hold the bottle within no time.  We were both enjoying this new found freedom. So much so that before I knew it, one bottle a day turned into two and true to form my breastmilk supply started to decrease. Breastmilk feeds went from mornings and evenings feeds, to only in the evening.

I recall the day that I realised I had almost completely dried up.  I think he was around seven and a half months.  We were lying on the bed getting ready for a nap and he nuzzled close to my breast – the same fashion way he used to before.  At this stage, I was only feeding him formula, but I think he could still smell the teeny tiny bit of milk that I had left. So I thought, why not and offered him my breast. He latched and suckled for a minute or two, enjoying the last few sips of that sweet natural nectar. I recall at that moment the feeling of both sadness and satisfaction.  I had given my baby the best foundation possible by doing what I could to ensure that he was breastfed – and now we are done.

My son is quite a stocky little boy and till today I get asked about his weight.  When I respond that he is weighing 12.5kgs, the question that most often follows is “did I breastfeed?”.  My response to that is always met with a knowing nod, which I find really amusing. Regardless, we are on our solid food journey and before I know it I will be able to get rid of the baby bottles and formula feeds! Well, that’s until the next mini me comes along. A true testimony to the every changing life of a new mom.

Dear Friend, 

I hope you understand that my life is so different now.  You remember – you were here once, although, I know it was years ago.  I had no choice but to wait until the time was ready for me to start a family. I was so excited when I joined the mommy-team, but some days it still feels like we struggle to relate as you are out of the baby phase already, and gladly so.

You were here once…

I hope you understand that my life takes so much more planning these days. Last year this time I could, at a whim, come over to visit with you; grab a drink (albeit a non-alcoholic one); go to the movies without much planning; do brunches or dinners with the girls. Now any of these tasks require coordination around nap times and feed times.

I hope you understand that now I have with me this little person who needs me, and I am torn.  To be honest, I miss all those fun, on-the-fly things we used to do. Now I have a stronger pull to be there for my baby above all else and to put his needs above my own.  It isn’t always easy – but deep down I know its best.

I hope you understand that there is this internal tension inside of me.  Sometimes I long for those days – those carefree times.  Where I only needed to consider myself.  I could go where I wanted when I wanted, near or far, regardless of the weather.  Oh dear, I don’t even remember what those days and it’s only been just under a year.

I hope you understand that sometimes I struggle to relate when our lives seem to have taken a slightly different shape.  Those days when we spoke about our career goals and the latest trends, now I am a stay at home mom and the only trend is tights and a mom bun. I try and find common ground – please know that I am trying.  Will you try too?

Know that I am trying

I hope you understand that this is just a season.  Soon I will be out of the baby phase, but for now, this time is most precious to me.  I appreciate it so much when you make allowance for my current state of being and we somehow still get to spend time together over coffee, instead of cocktails.  I value you coming over to my home and sitting with me while my son plays on the rug.

I hope you understand that your friendship means that world to me; your support in this season means that world to me; and your words of encouragement means the world to me.  Please know that even though I cannot make it and have to cancel on the last minute once again, that I do miss you deeply and value you greatly and look forward to when I get to see you again.

It’s been one of those weird days….

We woke up earlier than usual and played in the bed a bit before breakfast.  It was fun, full of giggles and silliness , and all seemed to be fine. Our boy has started crawling (YAY).  Till now he has spent most of his time on the rug we have in our living room.  Our kitchen and dining area is tiled and he is still adjusting to the feel of the tiles, so rarely ventures off the rug.  This morning I plonked the little guy down on the rug amongst all his toys and set off to whip up his breakfast.  (I should confess that it’s just dry cereal mixed with warm water – so I use the term ‘whip up breakfast’ rather loosely).  I look over and see our boy bravely venturing off the rug and onto the tiles towards me.  I am super excited and cheer him on.  Next thing he starts coughing and splattering and I immediately notice that he was spat up something that looks like regurgitated milk and that it’s come out of his nose.  He is not happy.  I scoop him up. I can see that there is still some goop in his nose, so I grab the nasal aspirator and attempt to clear it out.  He is crying – BIG Tears and fighting me off as best he can. I am feeling like a right old jerk mamma.  That said though, I can only imagine how yuck it must feel for him to have this regurgitated milk in his nose. So I continue with the best intention.  Tears, tears and more tears (his, not mine).

I manage to calm him and proceed to strap him into his feeding chair. As I offer him a spoonful of cereal he turns his head away in refusal and starts crying again. He doesn’t want it!!??  He NEVER turns away food so now I can only assume that his throat must be sore or at least agitated by the spit up episode that just occurred. He continues to cry, a heartsore wail. This concerns me greatly and my mamma heart starts to break for my little guy.  I offer yoghurt and he is willing to eat that,  but not without tears.  Oh, my bleeding heart. At this stage, I actually am unsure if this is teething relate, the beginnings of some a cold, or a mere coincidence – but to be on the safe side I give him some Nurofen. This seems to help and he calms.  We sit on the rug and play together because he won’t let me leave him.  To be honest, I am rather hungry and wouldn’t mind having breakfast myself, but what do I do if my little guy needs me.  Right moms?  We go hungry so that they can feel happy and secure. 

It’s still early, not quite nap time yet, but I hold him close to my chest and rock him in my arms   I think to myself that he must  be hearing my heartbeat and enjoying the feeling of the swaying motion in my arms.  Just like it felt like in the womb – safe, secure and snug.  His eyelids get heavy and he drifts off to sleep.  I lay him down in his room and instead of grabbing breakfast and a shower, I stupidly start clearing up breakfast and dirty diapers and packing the dishwasher so that I can do last night’s dinner dishes.   How can I keep making this mistake again??  A neighbour is doing some home renovations and I hear a delivery vehicle – BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! as the driver attempts to reverse and offload some or other supplies.  URGH, the timing could not be worse!!!!!   My husband offers to make me a cup of coffee and I grab a muffin that I baked yesterday.  For now, this will have to do for breakfast because my son is awake again.  He seems to be feeling a bit better, but I realise that I am starting to feel very emotional.  I wonder if the grey skies along with my son’s cries and clinginess haven’t maybe affected me a little emotionally.  Yes, I mentioned the weather because sometimes grey skies and rain clouds can leave one feeling a bit blah – right?  My emotions are raw and feel super close to the surface and I cannot explain what is wrong – I just feel like I could cry.

 I realise that taking care of one’s kid when they are upset, and having to figure out what is wrong and how to fix it can be very draining.  I realise that I have this, I guess you can call it a deep concern, of my boy being really sick.  I love him so much.  He is this little piece of me.  You know that saying “my heart outside my body”? It’s exactly that.  I don’t like seeing him upset or sad, especially when it is due to something physical.  During the next milk feed, I put on some of his favourite music and set my boy in his playpen while I jump into the shower.  Fortunately, my husband is around because the little dude is just having a very sensitive day, like his mamma, and doesn’t want to be left alone. I aim to prepare a healthy lunch and I am glad to see that my guy eats it all and has a second helping.  He is starting to feel better, and I realise that soon I am starting to feel a little better.  Later on, I decide to put some gem squash on the boil so that he can have it for dinner.  Before long I realise the gem squash is burning on the stove top!!!  Are you kidding me?  I wonder if it’s too early for a glass of wine?