Tonight, as I sat perched on the edge of the toilet, both hands holding Emmett's waist while fighting to keep him sitting in the bath (all of our keep-baby-in-the-bath apparatuses are failing us these days), he launched himself over the side of the tub and landed face-first in the pile of shampoos and conditioners and body washes I'd previously removed to limit distractions. You know, to help keep him sitting in the bath.
|We LOVE straws y'all.|
He screamed and cried and I scooped him up and hugged his little wet self to my chest and wrapped him in a towel. He laid his little head on my shoulder and we sat in the rocking chair in his room and settled in for a minute (or two!) of snuggles while he calmed down. My sister (Emmett's live-in babysitter) heard the commotion and came to see what was going on. When Emmett saw her, he cried out and he REACHED for her. Not for me. For HER.
Do ya'll hear that? The sound of big fat (metaphorical) tears hitting the floor and all of my fears being confirmed in one heart-wrenching heart-breaking heart-crushing moment? All this is to say that (cue even more melodrama!) leaving my baby at home each day to go to work is ruining his life (and mine)!
Okay, maybe not ruining. But I mean come on it really feels like it sometimes! I know my baby loves me best, I know he knows I'm his mama and 99.99% of the time he prefers me over everyone else, but that one time when he didn't was just too much.
So what am I to do? I have to work. I have to. (See how I'm saying that mostly to convince myself?) So I guess all there is to do is get used to it. Suck it up. Learn to love it? Nope, that's taking it too far.
I called my dad crying and crying one day, at my wits end and wanting him to fix it for me. I wanted him to know I was in pain and to fix it. Instead, he called me out. (Thanks Dad!) He said my attitude was awful, that women all over the world leave their children to go to work every day. That I was living in self-induced misery, always complaining and wishing things were different, and I was letting my bad attitude run my life. I was driving my husband and my friends and everyone crazy and I needed to change my attitude. He was right. He told me the only way to fix my situation is to embrace it. To find ways to enjoy it. And to pray that God will change my circumstances in time.
And so I did. And do, every day. But sometimes (about every two weeks or so..) it all builds up and I just miss my baby so much and I just want to be home with him so much. So I stress and I cry and then I do my best to let it go.
Meanwhile, on weaning:
This weekend Ray and I are leaving Emmett behind for four days to go to a friend's wedding in San Diego. Did you catch that? LEAVING EMMETT BEHIND for four days. Four days. That's not really all that long, right?
My mom is flying in tomorrow to help keep Emmett while we're gone, since Lucia is flying home to Georgia to take her finals on Wednesday. My mom will take great care of him and she's so excited to have some time alone with him for once. She flies home on Sunday and Emmett will go stay with my Mother-In-Law Sunday and Monday. So of course he'll be taken care of. And I'm sure the whole thing will be harder on me than on him. At least I hope so.
And y'all, Ray and I need a break (I hate saying that- how could a mama need a break from her baby, who she misses all the time??). Some time together. And some SLEEP. I'm really looking forward to the sleep.
But Emmett wakes up at least twice a night, and he won't go to sleep until I come in and hold him and rock him and nurse him. I know that's something I could fix if I tried really hard but to be honest, as tired as I am ALL THE TIME, I love that time together at night. I don't get to breastfeed during the day so.. Anyway why am I trying to explain this to y'all. It is what it is. Will my mom be able to get him back to sleep? Will they both be up all night and miserable and tired the whole time I'm gone?
And then there's the milk issue. I've been working so hard for months, knowing this trip was coming, to put as much milk as possible in the freezer. I've pumped and I've pumped but in the end I only have about 11 bottles. Baby boy has 5-7 bottles (or bf sessions) a day, which means I'm like... 2 and a half days short. And so...... formula.
I hoped I would never have to give him formula. I know it's not a big deal, I know so many mothers give their babies formula for so many different reasons, and I think that's great. But I set a goal to breastfeed exclusively until Emmett was 1, or until he showed signs of wanting to wean (he hasn't), and now I feel like I'm failing. I know, I know. I know I'm not failing. I'm proud of myself for making it this long feeding him breast milk exclusively while working full time, but it FEELS like I'm failing.
The point to all of this:
My life is hard! My life is harder than all the lives!
Okay, maybe not ALL the lives..