Sometimes I just need to be validated.

Nursing is hard - it has been from day one.  For the first month it was excruciating, and I spent many a nursing session crying because it hurt so much (I admit that the sleep deprivation didn't help - dealing with pain is always more difficult when one is that tired).  I almost gave up several times, thinking I had done my best and surely no one could ask more of me than that.  But every time, right about the moment I thought I couldn't take it anymore and had all but decided to call it a day, one random feeding wouldn't hurt.  And Jed would nurse so peacefully - and the joy I felt in giving my baby what he needed was overwhelming.  In those moments I was carried.  My resolve strengthened, and the goal of nursing pain-free seemed attainable - I just had to make it through one more week, one more day, one more hour.  I didn't know how long the discomfort would last, but I felt I could press on.

After about the first month (I think, anyway...time, especially in the first couple of months, is a fuzzy concept for me), the pain gradually lessened until it reached the point that it sits at now, ever-present but no longer excruciating.  I feel as though someone is giving me a constant but mild indian-burn.  I am always tender, and sometimes very itchy and raw.  There are the occasional moments of increased pain (and I won't even go into the blisters that form sometimes, which take me back to the first month and bring tears to my eyes), but I've learned, for the most part, to let the ever-present discomfort sit in the back of my brain and not bother me.  It is tolerable.

I've been told, when talking frankly about nursing troubles, that if it's so bad I should just quit.  But it's not that simple.  Nursing is not so awful that I'm ready to give up - partly because to quit is a big step.  I would be in more pain until my body realizes that I've stopped nursing, and once I stop I can't just start again - it's so final.  It is, after all, tolerable.  But tolerable doesn't equal easy.  Just because it's not bad enough to give up, that doesn't mean it's not still hard.


                                                                                                                                                         


Of things that stress me out about having a child, the amount that he spits up is on the top of the list.  It's probably not more than most babies - though I know there is a large variation - but it makes me cringe.  He's happy, gaining weight, and the pediatrician doesn't seem to have any concerns.  And that's fabulous.  But I really really hate when he spits up everywhere.  I don't mind some spit-up, and drool I could hardly care less about. But when the spit-up comes out like a volcano, 3 or 4 times in a row - before I can even finish wiping his face from the last time - and it gets all over me, and him, and the couch, or the carpet, or the car-seat, I want to cry.  Sometimes it looks like he didn't keep anything down he just ate.

And THAT really makes me want to cry.

I honestly don't know for sure why it upsets me so much.  Perhaps it's because nursing is so hard.  Or that it hurts my feelings.  All I know is that when the half-digested milk overflows out of Jed and flows like a river down his chin, or erupts with force and lands in a large puddle somewhere (inevitably, the one spot that the blanket ISN'T), sometimes my throat starts to close, tears spring to my eyes, and I say "Stop, little baby, please!  Please just stop.  Please, please just stop."  And I hate that I'm upset, because my mind tells me that it is completely ridiculous to be so upset over spit-up.  Children cause a lot more trouble than a little spit-up, and if I can't even handle that, what chance do I have to be a half-decent mother?  The vicious cycle, of course, is vicious - I get upset, and tell myself it's silly to be upset, so I get upset that I'm upset, and then I get more upset, and upset that I'm more upset, etc. etc. etc.

I've had people tell me that there's no reason to "cry over spit-up milk", and that I'd better learn to deal with it - that's just what babies do.  It really doesn't help.  I don't WANT to be incapable of dealing with the spit-up, but turning off the emotion like a switch isn't possible.  My reaction is immediate and instinctual, and no matter how I try to tell myself NOT to feel the emotions I feel them just the same.  In fact, thinking about how I "shouldn't" be upset about it only makes it worse, as I beat myself up for clearly not being capable of being a good mother.

I don't need to hear about how "it's okay" or "babies just spit-up, so don't worry about it" or "if a little spit-up bothers you, just you wait!".  I don't need to be chastised for being upset, or told I should quit nursing if it's so hard, or given advice on how to keep the milk down (trust me, I've tried it ALL).

Sometimes, I just need to be validated.