Moo Moo Goes the Cow

Dear Gabrielle,

As I write this, you are comfortably asleep in your crib and your Daddy is lying in bed, ready to respond to any cry. We just got home from Kansas - you did so well on the trip, but Mami's stress combined with your reduced nursing (I can't blame you - so many new things all at once) have done a number on Mami's milk supply.

I nearly cried today as I looked at the 3/4 ounces I produced after 20 minutes. I can't bear the thought of you having to drink formula. When I step back and think about that, I have to ask myself why. After all, I was a formula baby, and I turned out just fine.

I think it's several things, Sweetness. First is that I feel that I have failed you. In choosing to go to school during the day, I force you to spend a part of your day away from me. And during that time, you rely on me to make you a few decent meals. I haven't been able to since Friday. You ask so little of me, Sweetheart, and it hurts to think that I can't do the one big thing you need me to do in exchange for your acceptance of our time apart.

The second took a little more time to uncover. I realized as I was researching how to increase my milk supply that I am so very scared of being supplanted by a bottle. Despite my initial hesitations and complaints about breastfeeding, it is something I cherish. Something that only you and I can share. Something that I can give to you that no one else can. I love how you grab at my shirt and how you get overly excited at first and snort as you latch. I love how you get glazy-eyed when you eat because you're hungry and chatty when you just need a snack. I love how you fall asleep at my breast. I love how sweet you smell as I hold you close, and I love rubbing your hair. The thought of losing that is very disconcerting. Terrifying, actually.

I've read article after article about how my body is adapted to you, and I'm glad for that. But I still need to make more; reserve more. I'm scared that I made the wrong choice to go back to school. That you need me, and that I'm somehow hurting you. Perhaps some other time, after things are unpacked, I will tell you why things are as they are.

Until then, don't worry too much if Mami frets over her breast pump or clings to you just a little tighter as you're eating. I'm just trying to make sure that I get to keep this one last way for us to stay close that no one else can infringe on.

I love you, Little One. I'm coming to bed soon.

Love always,
Mami