Sharing

Snippet only just turned 5 weeks, but we have suddenly reached the point of rapid change. Literally, he seems different day to day now. He seemed the same for four weeks---shrimpy and scrawny, mostly unconscious of the world, zoned out and unfocused. Then, at the end of week #4, he bloomed. We discovered him smiling at us---genuinely smiling---this big, open-mouthed, joyful smile. The more we smiled back, the bigger his smile became, and he wriggles with it, overwhelmed with a happiness he cannot name. Although the exercise is mostly mimicry, I think the exchange passes more than copy-cat expressions between us. I would like to think he feels the love coming from us, and shines it back to us with those sweet eyes. There is something in them, and it's more than a ditto machine---I think it may be his first hint at appreciation.

Appreciation, certainly, does wonders for me when I'm nursing him and the breast pain is still as potent as ever. I'm disappointed that the antibiotics have not calmed the enflamed tissues, and I worry that if they haven't by now, they aren't going to. I see my OB tomorrow for a followup visit, and I already feel guilty about having to report to her that she was wrong with her prescription. I hate disappointing people in authority, afterall, but I haven't been able to observe the slightest improvement in my situation. It's the Advil that makes it tolerable, taken every four hours back to back. But, it's also the results I see in Snippet that make it something I can continue to do, despite the pain. He is growing so much! He has a plump, round belly that is comically out of proportion with the rest of his body. I wish I could know his actual weight, but he doesn't have another pediatrician appointment until December. (Maybe I'll hop on the scale with him tomorrow at the doctor's office.....then again, that does involved ME hopping on the scale, a horror I have not endured since my last OB visit prior to Snippet's delivery.) Seeing him healthy and thriving keeps me regularly nursing, as I try to meditate on all the good it is doing him rather than the pain it is causing me.

And, on days when he is yanking the crap out of my nipples in seeming glee, I can focus on another bit of good that my milk is able to do. I had never heard of milk sharing until my friend, Karen, mentioned it on her blog. I instantly thought it was something I might be interested in doing, and started nagging her for information and contacts. Through a Yahoo Groups board established to connect donors with parents in need, I was able to make contact with a local woman who was seeking a milk donor for her ailing nephew. Imagine my surprise when she told me he had been born on the same day as Snippet! Any lingering misgivings I had about donating disappeared in that moment, and she and I made arrangements to meet up. She came by my house two weeks ago to pick up the first batch of my frozen stash.

I had been debating for several days about how much milk to give her, even up until she actually arrived. But, then as I was standing in the freezer loading up the bags for her, I realized how silly it was to hold any of it back. Her nephew certainly needed it more than we did, as Jake has only bottle-fed Snippet twice since he was born. I could certainly pump more milk right away to build up a quick supply for us. I tried to pretend that practicality was the only reason I was reluctant to give her everything I had, but I knew there was more to it than that. All the milk bags are dated, and as I loaded them up for this woman, I found myself avoiding any of the bags dated October 9th, 10th, 11th....anything from the first week after Snippet was born. I would pick them up, then put them down and scurry along to something with a later date. I was so scared to let those early bags go, those that contained some of the very first milk that I painfully produced. Afterall, the pain I'm feeling now is nothing compared to the pain of engorgement when my milk first came in. Just looking at those dates made me instantly recall the tears, the confusion, the nearly thwarted desire to do the best I could for my baby. That milk seemed more valuable than all the rest, as it cost me so much to produce. But, also, it was symbolic---my first milk for my first baby, two feats that amaze me still.

As I debated, staring into the freezer door, I gained sudden clarity and threw all the milk into the cooler. All of it. And, was strangely elated. I could just give it all away to a greater good. Give away the pain of those days, and have it completely leave my house, and hopefully ebb from my memory. And, rather than think of it as giving away the joy of those days as well, I decided to think of it as sharing the joy of those days---nourishing this other baby, this sick baby, with all my love that surged for Snippet. I felt complete liberation as I closed the cooler, and closed the now-empty freezer door.