The Wire

While V is ready to hold a candlelight vigil, hold hands, and sing Kum Bah Yah; Justin and I are applauding at the tail end of what has undoubtedly been a great accomplishment. Just 1 day, 15 hours, and 23 minutes (oh... and 54 seconds... but who's counting) shy of Justin's 8-month birthday, we are down to the wire. Total milk inventory consists of 2 frozen packs of milk which he will undoubtedly drink today. From here on out, we'll do what we can to alternate between breast milk and formula while V continues to phase out her breastfeedings and heads towards resignation from the Dairy Products business. The good news is that, at 8 months, Justin has already been decreasing his milk requirements anyway; rapidly moving towards a regiment of twice-a-day full-bottle feedings (breakfast and bedtime), with everything in between being solid food meals with a swig of breastmilk to wash it down.  

And with that (aside from the ups and downs of his first couple of weeks of life) tomorrow will probably mark the first day of Justin not being exclusively breastmilk-fed. Chances are, we'll be mixing him up an Enfamil Cocktail to commemorate the occasion and toast to the boatload of sacrifice that his mom has endured to stay true to her goals. Now mind you, the original goal was to feed him breastmilk exclusively for 6 months. But being the overachiever that she is, the objective quickly got shifted to 12 months once the first milestone came and went. So now that she has made it to 8 months, all of a sudden this is supposed to be a disappointment.

Good grief. What happened to perspective? I still remember the night that Justin actually figured out the whole breastfeeding thing. It was the day before a doctor's appointment. Between soreness and mental fatigue, we had taken a few days off from even trying to feed the knucklehead. You were at your wits end, ready to throw in the towel and prepared to tell Dr. Oliver in the morning that the breastfeeding thing just wasn't going to happen. But before that could happen, you agreed to give it one more shot. And wham. The kid latched on like a fish on a worm hook. And ever since then he's been eating like a champion.

Hey, remember sticking your finger in his mouth trying to get him to unlatch? Or better yet, remember all of those times you didn't use your finger like you were supposed to, and felt the pain of trying to rip his head away from the milk faucet? Oh yeah. The good old days (ha).

So I said all of that to say, please be reminded darling wife that during his first few weeks of life, the crazy boy originally couldn't tell a breast from a bootstrap! Yes, we've come a long way and I hope that despite your disappointment, you are sincerely able to see all that you've accomplished. Especially in light of all that you have given up to achieve those accomplishments. Not to mention all that *I* have given up, too. Hey, I get my two best friends back! So if no one is happy about this milk parade coming to an end, you better believe that your husband is doing backflips and cartwheels as we head to the finish line. Well... I'm doing the backflips on the inside. I just can't bust those moves like I used to.



But seriously, for 8 months you breastfed or pumped... in South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania... before work, after work, between classes, on your lunch break, after dinner, before dinner, often times while cooking dinner (so talented!)... at 8pm, 11pm, 2am ("Babe... did you set the alarm?")... 3am... half asleep... fully asleep (ha! if I had a dollar for every time I found you asleep at the pump or while feeding)... while grading papers... on the phone... in private... in public... in front of family... in front of friends (you used to be shy... what happened?) ...in the car... while parked in a deck... on I-85 (luckily I was driving)...

The list goes on. And so do the memories.

And when you weren't pumping or feeding, you were thinking about pumping or feeding. And doing what you could to wrap your schedule around the next feeding / pumping time.

My point? It's simple. I commend you. Admire you. Am so very very proud of you. And just wanted to make sure...

That you are proud of you, too. We Love You!

Now get off the computer and go make some milk.