Who am I kidding? I can’t give up this blog.

I’ve been thinking a lot since I posted last night (two nights ago now, as I just picked this back up to finish) and I’ve come to accept that I write here for me. The community was an unexpected outcome and I love it. For so long I felt free to just pour my soul out here and I think lately – I’ve been censoring, thus the lack of posts. I know I am not the best writer and I know that reading about my adorable son day after day may not be all that fascinating. But I do it for me. It’s my outlet, so I need to let go of the other stuff (although, I am really psyched that people do still read, but it can’t be the reason I write).

Things have been exceptionally hard lately. I don’t want to whine all the time. I don’t want to generate negativity. And mostly, I fear that I will sound ungrateful for the blessing that is my son. Not a day goes by that I don’t marvel at the fact that we have him. And yet sometimes I feel like an impostor. I mean, why were we the lucky ones that found our way out of the fertility circus? When you try for so long, it can be hard to just let go of all that baggage.

Being home with him lately has been so hard. I don’t even know where to begin and I don’t have the words to fully convey how hard it’s been. So please, just trust me, it’s been hard.

What’s been hard, you ask?

There’s the nursing every two hours around the clock. Can someone please pass the lanolin?

The solid food strike.

His and my illnesses.

Sleep deprivation.

Redefining clingy.


Being his sole care provider from the time we get up until A gets home at 6pm every night (M-F).

When all of the above happen in unison, it is extremely hard to stay sane. This has got to be the hardest period I’ve had with him. Sure the sleep deprivation in the beginning was hard, but at least we could soothe him easily. With all he’s working on right now, he can be challenging to comfort. He demands to be held all-the-time. And while he’s there he’d like to nurse all-the-time. He seems to have picked up some tips about comfort nursing from his play group friends.

I was very methodical about when we nursed from the start. Some may disagree with this, but I did not want a comfort nurser. Mr. E complied and all was well. But sometime around 8 months he came into a new level of awareness. Things made him upset. He’s developed a mind of his own, and he will let us know if he’s upset. I must have been at the end of my rope one day and I started offering the boob. He took it (much to my surprise), and he continues to seek it (and unlike several months ago, he has no problem nursing with noises and people around). Now, who knows how much is comfort and how much is nourishment since he’s given up solid foods. (Can’t wait to explain this one to the pedi next week. I already go against most of her recommendations concerning feeding and fluoride treatments, and now we’ve just about given up on solids).

I want to be home with him and I love all the little things we do together. And I love that we are not rushing out the door every morning. I think it’s really good for him to have such an easy pace. But a lot of what I just wrote about has worn me down lately. Sometimes I think about going back to work. But it’s so far from what I want to do. I know I am where I want and need to be right now. I have to remind myself that even with a job, there will be frustrating times.

I am finishing this up two days after starting the post and yesterday Mr. E turned nine months. I had it in my head all along that he’d be sleeping through the night at nine months. And as the milestone approached he was getting up 4 or 5 times a night, and nursing. Last night, he went to bed at 8pm and woke at 7am. I can’t say as though I am hopeful for it to continue, but it sure was the little ray of hope that I needed during this very hard time.