OK, so I’m not sure if I should let you know this, but I’m actually sitting here pumping as I write this. In fact, for the last three months or more, I have done a good deal of my correspondence with my boobs attached to a sucker.

Mae gave up nursing in the second or third week of life during her first visit to Childrens Hospital. I met with lactation specialists who kept trying to convince me that I “could make it work” but somehow Mae wasn’t receptive to their messages. I can’t blame her; she had other things on her mind, such as living through heart surgery.

Anyway, I must confess that it is no small source of pride that I was able to keep my milk supply up during Mae’s whole ordeal. Now, life has returned to normal (it really has!) and I’m still pumping. I pump and I pump and I pump.  And I hate it.  There is no bonding. There is no sweet moment of peace between mother and daughter. There is a noisy pump with tubing and plastic and a rhythmic suck, suck, suck.

It sucks.

Other moms have told me their stories of heroics — pumping 8 months, pumping 13 months — and their kids didn’t even have heart surgery. So, here I am with Mae four-and-a-half months old, a cardiac surgery survivor, and I’m getting ready to give it up. I’ve had twinges of guilt but, truly, not too bad. (And before anyone comments on how I “should” keep it up for Mae’s sake, please spare me. I’ve heard it ALL and I’m quite certain Mae is going to be FINE!)

My hair is falling out; my joints all hurt; my left boobicle produces four times as much milk as my right boobicle and, thus, it is four times bigger, requiring lots of loose shirts and crazy bra antics; I ache all over. This happened when I nursed Delaney and Allie, too. Nursing is hard!  Much harder for me than pregnancy.

And I actually resent lactation specialists and nursing-maniac-mommies who act like my needs should come SO FAR beneath my daughter’s. I have been pumping every three hours every day of the week for about 16 weeks! This isn’t up for a societal-expectation discussion. This is MY decision and Mae is going to turn out just fine.

Sooooooo, I think it’s time to wean. Yes, this is definitely the last time I will “nurse” a baby. I’m ok with that. I’m reveling in every single nanosecond of Mae’s sweet life because she was a surprise and I am LOVING this surprise. But it is time for this phase to pass.

Ahhhhhhh, the freedom!

(Ok, so let me turn this sucker off…)

Overheard from the basement last night…

(Loud Crash… loud crying)

“Oh no! Don’t tell Mom!  SHHHHHHHHHHH!  Stop crying! I love you!! Don’t tell Mom!  Are you OK? STOP CRYING! shhhhhhhhh.  Oh. Come. On!  Don’t tell Mom. I love you. I LOVE YOU! Are you OK? Don’t tell Mom!”

It’s a cliche’, but I really don’t know where to begin. I’ve thought about blogging many times since Mae’s heart surgery but I found the prospect daunting. How do I just sit down and write about an experience that so terrified me, challenged me and, in the end, transformed me?

I suppose I’ll just begin with what I’m feeling today and we’ll take it from there, yes?

What I’m feeling today…  Pure gratitude.

Geez… I didn’t expect this. I’m crying. Maybe this is why I’ve postponed my “comeback” for so long. I know there are emotions I’ve not yet fully explored. The day-to-day has been overwhelming and wonderful, so why “go there,” back into the fear?  No, I won’t go back into the fear. I’ll stick to the gratitude.

I can honestly say that I learned so much from other people during Mae’s traumatic start in life. For three months, we depended on our family and friends to an extent that now seems ultra-demanding. Dave and I were completely overwhelmed with Mae’s care, the decisions we had to make, the appointments we had to keep and the relentless fears we had to face. Throughout it all, our family and friends picked up all the balls that we had to drop.

On a daily basis, dinners were left on our doorstep. Moms at the girls’ school took care of Delaney and Allie as their own — feeding them, caring for them and even helping them with homework. We were given groceries and gift certificates for restaurants. Our family members took days off from work to be where we needed them, when we needed them. People appeared at the craziest times with hugs that I needed more than I knew. My cousin flew into town to clean our house and then she went shopping and got us necessities like laundry detergent and beer.

The girls’ school — a Catholic school — proved to be more of a community than I ever understood. I always thought it was an extraordinary place but the outreach and care were beyond extraordinary. It was heroic. The girls’ friends wrote letters to Mae nearly every day, of their own accord. We hung them above her crib. A mom at the school organized a special mass for Mae the day before her heart surgery. Teachers called the hospital just to let us know they were thinking of us.

One friend whom I called upon for help nearly every day always said “yes” to my requests and then she also said, “What else?” Every day.

Dave and I are humbled.

People, when you get right down to it, are so good.

As I warm up my blogging fingers, I’ll  dive into the hilarious day-to-day reality of having THREE KIDS! But for today, this is what I had to say.

I’ll attach a couple of recent pictures of Mae and my brood.  It’s nice to be back!

To track Mae’s progress, sign up at CarePages.

Delaney and Allie decided that they wanted to write about their experiences as Mae’s sisters.  I thought I’d share their words here…

Allie’s Essay

HOW IT FEELS TO BE MAE’S SISTER

When Mom brought Mae home, I thought everything would be good. When I saw her eyes, it felt warm inside. Having her home was a joy. I got to hold her the first time. When we heard the honking noise we were so surprised. Mom and Mae were at the hospital six days. When she came home I was so happy. I got to feed her a bottle. When I found out Mae was going to have heart surgery, I was sad. But it will make her feel good without oxygen. I hope Mae feels better after this surgery. I feel like the hospital does not want us. [Allie says this because she is too young to visit Mae.] But now everything changed. I get to brush her hair every day now. I want to change her diaper. And that’s how I felt ever since. THE END.

Delaney’s Essay

HOW IT FEELS TO BE MAE’S SISTER

When Mae was born, it felt like a blanket of love. I was so happy I was a big sister again! When I saw her, I was anxious to hold her but very careful.

When Mom and Dad brought Mae home, I thought everything was going to be perfect. But 7 days later, Mae went to the hospital again. One day, Mom brought Mae to the doctor. Mom said she was concerned about Mae’s breathing. They checked her breathing. They were concerned about it, too. If the doctors were concerned about it then they’re doing something about it. They did. They sent her to Children’s Hospital. But they were so concerned that they sent her in an ambulance.

But when Mae came home, she came home with oxygen. The best thing was we get to feed her with a bottle. But two weeks later we found out she was having heart surgery. I feel just a wreck knowing she’s going to the hospital. But we all know it’s going to make her better. But the best thing is she’ll have a brand new life. THE END

I will share any comments with the girls so please feel free to leave your thoughts!