Nearing My Goal

Do you know how the last few steps are the hardest?

It doesn't matter how many flights of stairs you're climbing, how many more steps to the top of the mountain, how many more loads of laundry you still have to fold. The last few are undoubtedly the hardest.

Life has been difficult for this mommy lately. My boys are teething, have colds, are extremely clingy and ONLY want mommy. I suppose that's cute... at first. But when you have four little hands grabbing at you all day, demanding your attention and not allowing you to leave the room for fear that you might not return, it's tiring. Add to that the fact that I have a cold, too, and you have a recipe for pure exhaustion.

Since the boys were born, we decided that the best way for me to feed them was to pump breastmilk. I just couldn't get the breastfeeding thing down with two and we struggled knowing how much they were actually getting. They were losing weight fast and the doctor said they would have to be hospitalized if they didn't start gaining weight. So, pumping became our best option (for us and our checkbooks) and I haven't looked back. They're getting the majority of The Good Stuff and then two bottles of formula a day. And they're gaining weight like champions!

Every day, 5-6 times a day (more when they were waking up through the night,) I pump. It's a commitment. I don't necessarily enjoy doing it, but I feel like I'm doing something good for them. My goal was to do this for a year. When they turned 9 months, I celebrated... yeah, only 3 more months to go! As much as I love my boys getting The Good Stuff, this was a less-than-enjoyable process for mommy. I was tired. Exhausted. Pooped.

So when the pediatrician said we could start introducing whole milk into their bottles at 10.5 months, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. Wow. Are you serious? Am I that much closer? I wondered if I had to travel the last leg of my journey. Perhaps I could quit now and just supplement with more formula.

Then the boys' colds flared up, sleeping was interrupted and teething threatened my sanity. I looked ahead at the last few flights of stairs I had left. Three months. I had already come 3/4 of the way. That's good enough, right? I mean, how much more good could breastmilk actually do? If I wasn't pumping, then I could take Sudafed which would otherwise dry up my milk supply. Gosh, how I've missed Sudafed. And NyQuil. Advil. I could wear a real bra, be comfortable when I lay down and not need to attach myself to this darn pump an hour and a half of my life everyday. I could get more sleep. Oh, how I've missed sleep.

I talked to my husband about quitting. He knows that he walks a very fine line when it comes to me pumping. On one hand, if he says I should keep on going, I'll be mad that he's pushing me to do something I don't want to. On the other hand, if he says I should stop, I'll be mad that he was excusing all of the work I had done in the past nine months. Why do I even do this to him? But thank God, my husband knew me better than I knew myself.

"Mindy," he started sympathetically, "I'll support you either way." Hmm, good answer, Babe. "The boys have already flourished because of everything you've sacrificed for them. We need to take care of you first. If you'd like to stop, I would support you one hundred percent." 

He let that sink in a bit. That was a good answer, huh? This is where he shows just how much he knows me. "At the same time, I know how much you like to achieve your goals." Yeah, he's right about that. I won't start any project I can't finish. "Would you be disappointed with yourself later for not making it to a year like you had planned?" Yup. I would. And he knew it.

Nothing's really changed since that conversation. Except my perspective. It's a renewed perspective. I dusted myself off, tightened my shoelaces and took notice of the finish line ahead of me. I've decided that I'm not going to put more pressure on myself than I should. I'll do what I can, when I can. If I need to pump, but my boys are clingy and require mommy time, then it'll have to wait a bit. This might be a naturally transition into quitting, but I'm not looking for that. I'll do what I can, when I can.

Because that's the absolute best I can do.

Here's hoping their teeth come in quickly and pain-free! (Yeah, right. But a girl can dream, can't she?)