Belly and Boobs

Almost nine years ago, I became pregnant for the first time, with Annalise. Since then, I have had four other pregnancies, including two very early miscarriages before I got pregnant with Juliette. And I have nursed for 22 months (Annalise), 25 months (Zachary) and 20 months (Juliette). Let's do the math here and realize that, minus a few months, I have spent almost all of the past nine years either pregnant or nursing. That's a long time to dedicate my body, share my body with another person. Since we plan on Juliette being our last baby (I know -- be careful what you say), now that I am done nursing her, my body is MINE for the rest of my life!! This is a crazy concept to me.

For nine years, every time I took a sip of wine or coffee, was around second hand smoke, stayed out late (and by late, I mean past a feeding time), took a Tylenol or ate a Halloween candy bar past four in the afternoon, I worried about the repercussions -- not for myself, but for the barnacle. Now, if I want to, I can drink lots of wine! I can drink a whole pot of coffee! I can take the kind of cold medicine that knocks you out so you can actually sleep and perhaps recover from said cold. Maybe I'll take up smoking! (All right, well we all know that's not going to happen, but I had to try it out to see how it sounded!)

I'm not going to become a lush. And we all know I can't handle more that a half a cup of coffee without the music getting faster or my head spinning off into outer space. But I am going to go out with my husband for a date every now and then and not worry about the babysitter putting ALL THREE kids to bed! I'll go out with my girlfriends and come home late! I'll have weekends away! I might have something that resembles a life beyond my kids. This probably sounds ridiculously far-fetched to those who haven't left the world of pregnancy and nursing and so I'll keep you posted on the progress of this whole "having a life" thing.

The truth is, part of me is in mourning over having my body all to myself again. Now that I know that my extreme uncomfortableness (yes, I'm using that as a word) with Juliette's pregnancy was caused not by the pregnancy, would my body put up with another pregnancy? Am I not too old? Could we afford another baby? (Well, the answer to that one is easy. No; we can't even afford the three we already have.) Would I have time for four children? These are all good, valid questions. But a different part of me is seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. We just bought Juliette her own potty. She is speaking in complete sentences, and therefore we usually don't have to just guess what it is she is trying to tell us. We will someday soon be able to travel without diapers and a stroller. Someday in the far, far future, without carseats. We'll be able to go for a whole day without worrying about putting someone down for a nap. Jason and I might be able to go on a little vacation just for ourselves!

I am mourning the end of the baby phase. But I am celebrating this new phase of increased independence as well.

And my babies/big kids still need me. They still like to be picked up, kissed and cuddled. Nobody soothes a hurt tummy, a fall from a scooter or bike, having a toy taken back by a big brother or sister, an asthma attack, hurt feelings or a soccer ball to the nuts like Mommy. They need me to help with homework, learn how to ride a two-wheeler and to throw Friday night dance parties. Someday they'll need me to help with broken hearts and college applications.

If I've learned anything, it's that these phases go by too quickly. I can't spend too much time reflecting on what's been and what's yet to be. I need to enjoy the little moments that happen every day. Today was a beautiful fall day spent at the park with Grandma, Juliette and Zachy. Zachary can pump on his own, but still giggled with delight when I gave him one under-dog after another. Juliette just giggled with delight and narrated the whole afternoon. When Annalise came home from school, I was greeted with, "Mommy!" and a great big hug. Life is good.

So as my boobs shrink back to their pre-nursing, pre-pregnancy size (sigh. Good bye 32G, hello 32B), I must remember how much my life has grown in the past nine years. I have the stretch marks, the differently shaped belly button, the lengthened torso (What's THAT all about???) and the widened hips to remind me of the past nine years. And I'll move forward to the next phase of independence. I'll shed a tear today, but I'll rejoice tomorrow when Annalise figures out how to pull up "Word World" on the Tivo, giving me five more minutes in the shower. Today I'll mourn that there is no longer a baby in the house. But tomorrow I'll celebrate my big kids.

Goodbye belly. Goodbye boobs. You've been good to me.

Too Fast

I don't mean to harp on the fact that Juliette is getting older, but it really is starting to get to me. A few days ago she started her first "solid" foods. Both Annalise and Zachary hated the rice cereal, hated to be fed on a spoon. I think part of me kind of liked that, liked that they still had to really depend just on me for food. Even though I am envious of my friends whose babies will take a bottle and are able to leave them for more than 20 minutes, I know that part of me still really likes being the one and only. So I think I was secretly hoping that Juliette would spit out her rice cereal and turn her back on that spoon. But she didn't. She opened her mouth and shoved that spoon right in herself! (Adorable, too!) Check off one more milestone.

Then Jason moved the holy Tivo box into the cabinet. (It was resting on a speaker and we thought it was causing some interference. It turns out HGTV just does that for some reason.) So now we have to leave the cabinet open to work the TV. Not a problem for a while, right? No, the very same day the kid crawls across the room to mess with the stereo! What is it with kids and electronics? And then, after being redirected, she headed straight for the fireplace tools! What is it with kids and sharp, heavy objects? Check off another milestone. (The milestone being first attempt to cause bodily harm... Oh! I didn't even mention pulling over the floorlamp. Wow. We really need to babyproof.)

And now it has become obvious that we need to move the poor child into a bed suitable for a baby who can sit herself up, pull up on the sides of things and reach out of her little tiny bassinette. She also stretches from end to end. It's time, I know. But this will, in all likelihood, be the last time we have a bassinette in our bedroom. This will be the last time we construct the crib, the last time I will hear every sigh and whimper during the night. It might also mean I'll sleep better (did I mention it's 1:45?), but I'm sad all the same. Already I have to deal with Annalise going to school full day in less than a month and Zachary finishing parent ed and now being gone three mornings a week. It all goes by too fast. Too fast. At least Juliette still has no teeth (an Evans record by a mile) and very little hair. I know there are many more milestones to check off. And maybe I'll be one of those moms who can't wait for her kids to get their drivers' license. You never know.

Catfight

Yesterday, I was talking to some friends, one of whom is trying to quit smoking. The other friend was advising her to just take it one day at a time. Each day, wake up and say, "Today, I'm not going to smoke. Tomorrow I can smoke if I want to, but today, I won't." I thought this was great advice, and reminded me of how I got through breastfeeding with Annalise those first few months.

I had a terrible time breastfeeding in the beginning. I was horribly engorged, bleeding, and in SO much pain. It was excruciating for me. Add that onto a terrible case of baby blues, loneliness, helplessness and really not knowing what the hell I was doing, and I was miserable. But I was, as always, stubborn. I was determined to breastfeed, and so I was going to breastfeed! And I handled it like I was quitting smoking or drinking. I took it one day at a time, two days at a time, a week at a time then a month at a time. By three months, I wasn't miserable and crying every time that ferocious tiger-like baby latched on. And then at four months, Annalise got teeth. And then I was miserable again. But that didn't last long. And that kid nursed for 22 months! Zachary for 25! Knowing how hard it was for me in the beginning, I'm quite proud of this!

My friend asked me if I like breastfeeding. And the answer is an unequivical yes. Especially now, with all the chaos and rush here, do this, rush there, yell at that kid, help this one with this, help that one with that, it is so nice to have that quiet time. It is such a nice excuse to just sit and be. There is no rushing an infant through a meal. There's no bribery or threats or "sit down in your seat"s. It's just us. Juliette and Mommy, enjoying a meal together. Dr. Sears says in one of his books how much Martha loved to nurse in the middle of the night. When I just had Annalise I thought this was complete BS. But now that I have the three of these monkeys, I totally get that. It's so nice to have that quiet moment of bonding.

I also think breastfeeding is empowering. I love my body so much more now than I ever did before (when I had great abs, no stretch marks and no need to wear a bra). Seriously, why didn't I appreciate that??? Now my hips are wider, my belly still sort of looks like I may be a little bit pregnant, I have lots of lovely stretch marks and, well, boobs. But my body is AMAZING! I have carried three babies for a total of 27 months, pushed them out and sustained them, quite literally, using only my body. That really has to be the biggest accomplishment of my life... keeping a baby alive! That's pretty incredible!

So, yes, I love breastfeeding. But somedays, it's a pain. It would be easier if Juliette took a bottle. I could go out with friends or tutor in peace and quiet or go for a swim. And there are times when mealtime with her is anything but relaxing. I'm not to the point yet of making dinner while nursing. (My mom did. She rocks!) But we often are wandering through the house, tying shoes, reading, helping with homework, buiding with Legos, you name it, while nursing. And then there are the times when it is quiet and peaceful, but apparently Juliette needs a little more action. Sometimes I feel like I'm in the middle of a catfight... There's kicking and scratching and hairpulling; a little screaming thrown in for good measure. There's no biting yet, but give her time. That'll come soon. But I love nursing that feisty girl. I'll take the abuse along with those beautiful smiles, those quiet moments for as long as they last.