Camp, glorious camp, started this week. For three luxurious hours, every day this week, the girls we will out of the house. Sure, it cost as much as a damn car payment, but it's worth every penny. So, once again, I am free to write. Well, as free as I can be writing while wrestling with my little man - who I will now refer to as Little Man, or LM - trying to prevent him from pulling every in the house wire out of its socket.
Speaking of Little Man, his new moniker was inspired, in part, by the events of this weekend. Yesterday, I weaned him. While some of you might be thinking, "What's the big deal? Shouldn't she be happy to be done with all that bullshit? She complained about it enough!" And, to some degree, you would be right. It was so liberating this morning being downstairs exercising and not having to have the monitor on so I could go feed LM when he wakes. Knowing Hubby could fix him a bottle and I could actually finish a workout when I was done rather than when a twenty-six pound tyrant in dinosaur pajamas decided he needed to eat was a freedom I haven't felt in a while. It's a lot of responsibility, mentally and physically knowing you are solely responsible for the nourishment of another being. Sure, he's been eating solid foods, but upon waking and after naps he was still doing a pretty good nursing and, thus, I had to postpone my return to heavy drugs. Kidding, but it is nice I can now drink as much wine as I want at a barbecue without being afraid the baby's going to be crawling into walls after I feed him. My body is, once again, my own.
And that brings me to the sad part. This body has been put to some hard work over the past six years and now that time is over. And while I know it is time, I thought to myself yesterday as I fed him and he looked up at me playing with my mouth, "This is the last time I will nourish someone from my body." It made me think of a day two years ago when I sat, weeping, in front of footage from the San Diego Zoo of a mother gorilla nursing her baby and I said to H, " I think I'm ready for another baby." It is the most basic of drives, to create and sustain life with your body. Between carrying and giving birth to my kids, then nursing them, my body has been in some state of giving, with few breaks, for a long time. It has been a long, slow process of letting go - carrying them inside me, then in my arms, feeding them, and now at arms-length as they feed themselves. It is the most primal of separations.
While the physical part of mothering is on the decline for me, I know I will still be offering them some kind of nourishment as I begin feeding their intellects and spirits and enjoy my new found freedom. I will look back on these times with fond nostalgia - especially each time I catch a glimpse of my sad, deflated boobs in the mirror.
2 comments:
I am laughing out loud at the vision of M crawling drunkenly around your house. ;) I remember crying and crying when Jackson's doctors told us to switch to the super special (read, EXPENSIVE) formula for the sake of his tummy because I so enjoyed being the direct provider of his nutrition. Granted, I will do it again some day, but I can only imagine how both awesome and sad a feeling it is for you.
Oh, this makes me so sad. I can't imagine how tough it is to say goodbye to this part of motherhood although I love how you end with the different kinds of nourishment you'll be providing (intellectual, etc.).
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