B is for...

Bottle!
 
Maybe I have one last feed in me.....maybe.  But then that's it.  I think everyone is happier because of it.
 
When I talk to other moms who have recently weaned their baby off the boob, they talk of mixed emotions, happy to be done, but sad too.  I don't really relate to them much, all I feel is the happy part.  Sure I bonded with her sometimes during the feeding.  I also got the crap beat out of me by her spontaneous arm swings & sharp little nails.  I won't even get into the nibbling (thank goodness for no teeth!). But I suspect most of those moms that miss it didn't have to go through the same thing I did.  When I think about it, I question whether I would do it again (but probably would).
 
They call it thrush.  Personally, I don't think that is a harsh enough word for it.  I know that others who've experienced this to the extent I did will understand.  And although I am finally done with it, it still weighs on me when I think of it.
 
It's true, I am one of the not so lucky ones to have this chronic case of systemic yeast infections.  Most of the time it's not a big deal, a little irritating, but nothing the odd pill, cream or even pro biotic yogurt couldn't fix.  Then the baby came along & suddenly I had sores where I never thought possible.  After some serious doctoring, a few nights of purple madness, & more than a handful of renewed prescriptions, I managed to get it under control - at least to the point where I was no longer walking around the house bra-less (even shirtless at times) saying "My boobs hurt!"  So for the remaining months as a nursing mother, I dealt with the much less severe, but quite annoying infection, symptoms showing up in waves.  Finally when Scarlett turned 7 months, I put my previous expectations aside & decided I had had enough, Scarlett was ready for independence (so was I).
 
I think Scarlett had decided she was ready too.  Less interested in mom milk (& a little frustrated in the lack of it) & more interested in what was happening around her, feeding became a bit more of a chore, followed by a temper tantrum (not me, the baby) & efforts to convince the child that she was finished her feed. Since the switch, Scarlett has grown length ways & sideways, is sleeping through the night, is so very happy & has learned to feed herself (I am pretty sure she preferred the bottle the first time we introduced it at 8 weeks).  Just the thought of Rodd getting up in the middle of the night or early in the morning to feed the baby has freed me.  Now just to convince him somehow...
 
Nature may look down on the fact that I don't miss the boob feeding, but I'm convinced I make up for it in other ways.  Scarlett doesn't let me off that easy.  I am her number one.  Sometimes I wonder if there is a magnetic force between us when in the same room.  No matter how many times I pick her up, & put her down on the other side of the room, she always finds her way back to me.  Followed by an attempt to climb my legs, looking up at me with her big blue eyes & saying "Mom." Maybe it is her way of letting me know that she misses it a little.  Maybe this closeness is a way of compensating for the breast-feeding, making it so easier to wean to the bottle.  Maybe it has nothing to do with it.  But I know my space will never be just my space, & I'm OK with that.