Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The End of Our Breastfeeding Relationship
I have been weaning Parker from breastfeeding for the last month or so. It is bitter sweet. When I became pregnant I was told by several friends how difficult breastfeeding can be. They warned me to start reading up on it right away and to be prepared for a challenge.

Well the reading didn’t prepare me it just scared me. Mastitis, Thrush, engorgement, plugged ducts, oh my! Inverted nipples, really? I had no idea I had inverted nipples. I feared I wouldn’t be able to breastfeed as I read that inverted nipples could impair a proper latch.

Thankfully, Parker latched on with no problems about 30 minutes after his birth. With the help of my Doula and midwives I learned a few different ways to hold him and latch him. However my real teacher was Parker. He showed me the way he liked to be held, when he wanted to eat, when he’d had enough and that he could latch on no problem. It really has been a match made in heaven.

After 12 months of breastfeeding with no more problems save a cracked nipple or two, we decided to move on. I say we because I don’t feel like I made this decision by myself. Parker did have a say. He showed me that he could take a bottle of formula and enjoy it. He showed me that sometimes he’d rather have a sip of water. And he has shown me that he is ready to be weaned by not fighting for the breast during the weaning process.

I started thinking about weaning when we had a pregnancy scare (scare – cause I’m not ready yet) a couple months ago. It made me realize that I wanted my body back for a little while before I became pregnant again. I know women who have gone from being pregnant to nursing to being pregnant again to nursing for years. I am in awe of these women. I think it is amazing and completely self-less. However, I am not one of them. I am glad I recognized this when I did as I want to get pregnant again within the next year (perhaps) and I want to breastfeed my next baby. I want to walk into that relationship with the same excitement and enthusiasm as I did with Parker. I am not sure that would be possible without weaning now.

So as of right now, Parker breastfeeds once a day, right before he goes down at night. We enjoy this time together and I’m sure we will miss it when it’s over. Just writing this has brought a tear to my eye (ok, truth is I’m sobbing). I know I have made the right decision for my family and myself but that doesn’t mean that it is going to be an easy process. It is nice that I can take my time with this last step and ensure that we are both ready for our breastfeeding relationship to end before completely weaning. I don’t know when that will be, but I know it’s not tomorrow, and that is just fine with me.

~Sarah

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Thursday, March 4, 2010
My Olympic Hangover
Well, it’s official.  I’m in Olympics withdrawal.  After more than two weeks of incredible highs, heartbreaking lows and an unbridled patriotism that consumed this country and swept me along with it, I find that I am left with a deep sense of pride in our athletes, Vancouverites and our country in general.

I was lucky enough to get tickets to aerials, the closing ceremonies (which took campy, kitschy, silly fun to another level) and, the mother of all 2010 events, Men’s Gold Medal Hockey. For a time we thought seriously about selling our hockey tickets once we knew Canada was going to be there but, in the end, I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything. Okay maybe not anything. Hey, we all have our price, don’t we?  But you get the point.

It was incredible to be there in that sea of red with my fingers crossed and my heart pounding as the pressure mounted.  When the score was tied mere seconds before the end of the 3rd period I was completely paralyzed, mouth agape.  Paralysis quickly morphed into feeling sick to my stomach.  I was just so nervous for our players who had to bear the weight of an entire country's expectations on their shoulders.

When the winning goal was scored in overtime I literally thought I was going to explode with the excitement and relief of it all. I hugged every stranger in red I could get my hands on. As we all shuffled out of the stadium singing the anthem, cheering like mad and high-fiving on-duty police officers I felt what I think people all across the country felt; a kinship, a closeness, a sense that the elusive significance of what it means to be “Canadian” had somehow been found during these games.

It turns out it wasn’t just that we did, in a sense, “Own the Podium” and it wasn’t because we won the gold medal in hockey, though that was the proverbial icing on the cake; it was that we had all been waiting, it seems, for an excuse to wear our patriotism as a badge of honor rather than an emotion to hide (at least around people from other countries). And wear it we did, as pins, as badges, as t-shirts, as jerseys, as temporary tattoos and as body paint.

Now, as the streets are swept, the tents are taken down and the body paint shellacked to chests is scraped off, the high of the past 16 days is waning and the melancholy of knowing that an extraordinary time has now passed is setting in. However, the melancholy can’t last forever but what will last is the memory of a record number of gold medals, a hockey game that will go down in history and our collective experience of one hell of a party.

~Laura

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