Stillness
Some people say they get their best ideas in the shower, but I find that nursing is when I'm the most able to ponder and organize everything that's swirling around in my brain at any given moment. June is two and a half and really only breastfeeds once a day, usually to fall asleep for her nap--we lie down in the master bedroom and curl up together, and my mind starts to wander. I always knew I wanted to nurse both of my girls for a long time, and for June it's now for comfort rather than actual nourishment, and is part of her sleep routine (unless someone else puts her down, which she's ok with thank goodness).
It's only recently that I've really started noticing how many of my ideas are formed and shaped during those quiet minutes together, more so than if I ever lie in bed alone and stare out the window. It must be something about the hormones, or the warmth of her body, or the time frame--somehow when I try to sit still any other way I find myself subconsciously trying to weasel out of it. There in bed with June it's different--time feels like less of a burden. The moment she falls asleep is the best part, when her body goes limp against me and she becomes even warmer. I usually stay there with her for a while, just to draw the experience out a bit more, and then transfer her to her crib. I don't know how much longer I'll nurse her--I have no set timetable, and because I'm (almost) 100% sure that she's my last baby I'm happily holding onto this vestige of connection. She's usually so mobile that having this opportunity to be still with her is a lovely thing. Edie's very affectionate as well, and I'm thankful that I have that physical bond with her too. I hope that even without the nursing to help cohere my thoughts that I'll be able to carry it through to simply having quiet moments with the girls in whatever form those moments take, but I'll really miss this phase of my life.
The image above was taken when June was about a year old; it's always felt slightly too romantic to add to my website, but it seemed right to use it to illustrate this post.
It's only recently that I've really started noticing how many of my ideas are formed and shaped during those quiet minutes together, more so than if I ever lie in bed alone and stare out the window. It must be something about the hormones, or the warmth of her body, or the time frame--somehow when I try to sit still any other way I find myself subconsciously trying to weasel out of it. There in bed with June it's different--time feels like less of a burden. The moment she falls asleep is the best part, when her body goes limp against me and she becomes even warmer. I usually stay there with her for a while, just to draw the experience out a bit more, and then transfer her to her crib. I don't know how much longer I'll nurse her--I have no set timetable, and because I'm (almost) 100% sure that she's my last baby I'm happily holding onto this vestige of connection. She's usually so mobile that having this opportunity to be still with her is a lovely thing. Edie's very affectionate as well, and I'm thankful that I have that physical bond with her too. I hope that even without the nursing to help cohere my thoughts that I'll be able to carry it through to simply having quiet moments with the girls in whatever form those moments take, but I'll really miss this phase of my life.
The image above was taken when June was about a year old; it's always felt slightly too romantic to add to my website, but it seemed right to use it to illustrate this post.
Comments
(I assume that's you K.W...)
beautiful photography.
This overwhelming tenderness.
Greetings.
I had the same thing when nursing Eliot. Especially the last time before he went down for the (hopefully) night. I would replay the day in my head, think of things I wanted to do (or needed to be done) tomorrow; plan, scheme, think.
I really miss that about nursing now. Instead this time comes in shorter bursts; right after Eliot has a nap he likes to have an extended snuggle either in bed or sitting somewhere and I can use that time for the same purpose.
We'll miss you this Friday!
Beautifully written and captured :)