Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Monthly Bill

Disclaimer:  Girly talk to ensue.

So, I think I may have just pumped for the last time.  A measly 2.5 ounces.  I remember when my milk was first coming in 2.5 ounces was a BIG deal.  I would pump and we would excitedly pour it into a bottle and see how much I made, and I would feel proud as I produced more and more.  And then it started to suck...but I think we've already beat that horse dead. 

As it was going horribly wrong, I couldn't wait to be done.  Now that I am done; physically unable to produce much at all...I feel kind of sad.  Not sad because I feel guilty about stopping (I've already ridden that roller coaster), just sad.  Giving Henry my milk felt good...it was like a connection between us.  Something I could give him that no one else could.  And just being able to produce milk meant that the whole process wasn't over.  We found out I was pregnant right before Christmas last year.  For the last year I felt my body changing.  I watched it change.  It was the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.  Being done producing milk means the monthly bill will probably start coming again here shortly.  Then everything will be back to normal.  I will have come full circle, completed the whole cycle.  I just feel sad about it today. 

When I was about 18 weeks pregnant, I was laying in bed one morning and felt the tiniest little nudge.  I think it actually happened a few times before it even caught my attention.  I remember the instant I actually noticed the feeling...zeroed in on it.  And I realized it was Henry.  What a feeling.  He was actually in there...moving around.  Becoming the little pumpkin that I'm watching sleep as I write this.  

(The calm before the storm.  I was in labor a week after this photo was taken.)

I can't believe I'm saying it...but in this exact instant, here and now...I miss being pregnant.  I may want to be pregnant again in the future.  Whoa. 

Okay, its over. Whew, the moment passed.  Now I remember projectile vomiting for 4 months.  Once I threw up a bagel in the shower.  Okay, the moment is definitely over. 

So, now that I know we have some family reading this...I'm going to try and post more Henry pictures.  I know that is what everyone wants anyway.  My ramblings are just the vehicle for more pictures.

The littlest sheriff you ever did see.

(He looks so surprised in these pictures!)

Our cute little cow-poke is now thirteen and a half weeks old.

These jammies were on quadruple mark-down at Baby Gap.  I HAD to get them.  When I got home I realized they had a yellow warning tag attached to them:  This garment is not flame resistant. 

I didn't realize flame resistance was such an important feature in infant pajamas.  I'll have to remove the tiki torches from around Henry's crib.

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