Saturday, August 4, 2012

The Times they are a Changing

I never really thought this time would come. Gulp.
I remember those first magical days in the hospital when I just held my Poppet for hours on end, drinking in her little face and tiny hands, her velvet soft warmth and perfection, her eagerly sucking mouth, and knew I never wanted that moment and that closeness to end.
I didn't know if I'd ever be ready for it. Or if the Poppet would ever be ready for it. (Let's be honest, she's not. I've been warning her about it for the last month and she always shakes her head emphatically)
But it's time for the milk to go.
My Poppet turns two tomorrow. Which means she'll be smack on the World Health Organisations target for breastfeeding. And... I'm over it. I've been various combinations of pregnant, breastfeeding, pregnant and breastfeeding, tandem breastfeeding and just feeding for five years now and I want my brain back. At least, I hope there's one still somewhere back there to retrieve. That feeding time has been great for Pinterest and Goodreads and reading lots of um... less literary novels, and all that other stuff that requires minimum thought, but now, I really really want my brain back. I want to get stuff done. I'm not going to go cold turkey on my Poppet, as that seems too cruel, but I'm going to cut it back to just her going-to-sleep feed and go from there...
I've stocked up on strawberries to make her lots of pink milk.
I'm trying to stock up on will power.
That little lower lip thrust out, the tear filled eyes...
Sort of ironic this is the last day of World Breastfeeding Week. And not the best birthday present for the  Poppet.
But things do change.  And I'm sure (hope) she won't look back on it in later life from therapy.
Wish me luck. 

No comments:

Post a Comment