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Happy Woman Blues

by BrideofRainDog

Attachment parenting in a detached world

Happy Woman Blues

Attachment parenting in a detached world

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A nursing dream

Posted April 13, 2007
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I dreamed the other night that I was going to a writing conference. I was really excited about it, because it represented my return to the adult world. I identified what I'd do and with whom I'd go.

Then, a few hours before I was set to leave, I got cold feet. I couldn't figure out why. It wasn't because of a fear of flying, or nervousness about the conference; it had something to do with leaving the kids behind, but I couldn't figure out why. Rain Dog would be perfectly capable of fending for himself and the boys.

Then I realized: I'd left nothing to feed Boris. No expressed breastmilk, no formula. It was too late to pump enough for three days, and as for formula? I was terrified that he wouldn't like it and would refuse to eat. So, I canceled my plans. And felt enormous relief.

I'm not a militant anti-formula mom. I was formula-fed; I'm smart, not overweight, and no more prone to illnesses than my breastfed brother. But for my kids? I wouldn't give formula unless they were starving. That has less to do with my beliefs about formula quality and much more with what nursing means to me.

When Hamlet's dairy and soy protein sensitivities asserted themselves, nursing was the only way I felt I had to connect to my fussy little person. It reassured me that there was something I could get right. When he weaned abruptly at 13 months, I was devastated. I pumped for another 8 months after that, mixing my milk in with his rice milk.

Pregnant with Boris, I prayed I'd be able to nurse again. I'd heard of moms who successfully nursed one child but not the second--or who gave it up because they found it too inconvenient. As it turned out, I picked up nursing again as if I'd never stopped. And, while the dietary restrictions are more of a pain this time, Boris--at 4 1/2 months--has been showing signs of readiness for solids. Also, like his brother, he's not a comfort nurser. It makes me wonder how long I have until weaning.

Given my dream feelings, then, I think it likely that my subconscious was trying to tell me to enjoy what I have. I do wish for more adult contact, with other writers especially, but I'll get it when the kids are grown. So for now, I'll nurse as long as I can.

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A nursing dream

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