Six Months

Noah is six months old now.  His smiles are getting bigger and bigger.  His hands want to hold everything and he drools like crazy.  He smells so, so good.  I love my little Noah Britches more than ever.  He is a delight to everyone in our family.  

We've recently introduced him to solid foods and the exersaucer.  He still seems so young to me.  I see the high chair and the baby toys and I watch him roll around like a pro and even try to push up on his hands and knees and I just don't know who this little guy is.  What happened to my newborn?  The days are so long, but the months are flying by.

At his well child visit I found out that Noah hasn't gained any weight in the last two months.  Last week was a frenzy of lactation consultation, weigh-ins, increasing my intake and nursing whenever Noah looks at me twice.  I've started taking fenugreek and blessed thistle.  I drink water all day long.  I've started eating whatever I want again, including ice cream, pudding, and Oreos, or as Emma calls them, 'Marios'.  I've stopped running (I'm sure the whole 1.05 miles I was jogging twice a week before was really affecting my supply) and I've started taking naps.  Pretty much anything I can do to cut out stress and help Noah gain weight, I'm trying it.  Short of supplementing with a bottle, for now.  Nursing is so important to me, and it is something that I want to continue to do if at all possible.  I'm not giving up without a fight.  And it's been a fight- I've dealt with thrush, blocked ducts, milk blisters, and now low supply- and that's just this time around!  But I think we are slowly moving forward.  Everyone's nightly prayers include, "Please bless Noah that he'll gain weight" and I have to trust that the Lord will tell me if my efforts aren't enough.

I know all of my kids have gone through spells of not gaining weight in favor of gaining length, and I'm hoping that's what we are dealing with now.  But every time he cries I wonder if he's hungry.  When he wakes up in the night I wonder if it's because his tummy is hurting.  He had an ear infection that didn't get treated right away because I didn't take him in.  And I wonder if anything that I am doing is enough.  Because that's what we mothers do, right?  We always wonder if it's ever enough.  Enough love, enough patience, enough effort.  Enough discipline, enough play, enough to eat and enough sleep.  Enough, enough, enough.  

Lately (as in the last six months) it seems like I am perpetually in crisis mode.  My life is compartmentalized into feeding sessions, and any work or play that has to be done must be done between those sessions.  The clock is always ticking, the nap always nearing it's end, and I'm always wondering if I've done enough.  I know I am by far my own worst critic, constantly pushing myself to be more and do more and berating myself for not getting it all done.  I have to remind myself daily that my efforts are enough.  Jason reminds me of that often, too.  But when the next crisis comes, I wonder and worry if I'm doing anything right.

My kids love to draw on my shower door with a dry-erase marker.  One day while in the shower I was looking at the stick-figure drawing one of them had drawn of me.  With the water from the shower dripping down her face it looked like she was crying.  Crying is something that I don't do very often.  I don't know why; I love the release that comes with letting it all out.  But I didn't like the thought of that stick-figure mother on my shower door crying.  Motherhood is amazing- it's pushing me to new limits and testing me in ways I never knew I could be tested and rise triumphant.  It's not breaking me, or weakening me, I am not giving up.  And so I decided that stick-figure mother wasn't crying- she was sweating.  Putting her all into a task that she finds more noble and meaningful and rewarding than any other job she  could ever hope to do.

And that sweat reminded me of this poem-

Stick to your task till it sticks to you; Beginners are many, but enders are few. Honor, power, place, and praise Will come, in time, to the one who stays. Stick to your task till it stick to you; Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it too; For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile Will come life's victories, after awhile.  -Anonymous  And so, though I might find myself in crisis mode occasionally- or often- I will stick to my task.  I'll work and bend and sweat and smile and continue to try to be the best mother I can be. And happy six months, Noah Britches.  Thanks for sticking with me.