It is 4am and I am feeding you. There are tears in my eyes and I’m hoping and praying that this feed stays, that this is something my body doesn’t give up before I am ready.
Today’s post is one of the harder ones that I have written. I fear that no matter how much I try to explain our story their will be judgement, criticism and words and thoughts that will make the pain I’m feeling cut a little deeper.
But perhaps my words will also help someone out there, someone who has been here. Someone who knows just how difficult and self-tortuous it can be.
Perhaps writing the words will help me to accept what is and to let go of how I expected and imagined things would be.
I fed your brother and sister until their first birthday. Although it wasn’t always smooth sailing, there was never need for too much concern or intervention. Your sister, my first, had similar issues to the ones you and I have faced but to a much lesser extent.
With you my little one, despite the weeks dedicated to nothing but feeding, electric pumps, herbal teas and countless sessions with the lovely and ever helpful ABA lady, I haven’t been able to give you what you need.
Despite the countless nurse and doctor appointments and following every bit of advice that came my way, what I have to offer you hasn’t been enough to keep you hydrated and growing, to give your developing body and mind all that it needs. When things were at an all-time low we had no choice but to supplement you. And as my wise and wonderful Aunty said when I first started feeling that I failed you, we did what any caring and responsible parent would do.
Since that moment you have grown and grown and grown. Feeling your wet nappies and knowing you are full and happy makes me happy. Having you weighed and knowing everything is now ok is a relief, as is no longer needing to take you for blood tests. Oh how they broke my heart!
But still I am sorry little girl. So sorry.
Strangely enough I’ve had friends who, for one reason or another, couldn’t feed. I would tell them to let it go, that they were fabulous mums and needn’t give it another thought. That they love their babies unconditionally and that is what matters.
I know one thing they struggled with was being judged by anyone and everyone. By people who didn’t know their story. I now understand exactly how that felt. At the end of the day we are all mums doing what we believe is best for our babies and the mere thought of someone questioning or doubting that can hurt, it can hurt a lot. It is times like this that thicker skin would have come in very handy!
It’s sometimes hard to hear your own words and to take your own advice. But I’m trying. I’m trying to accept what is and I’m trying to not let it upset me. I’m trying to let go of my expectations and to get on with things. I know, without a shadow of doubt, that I’ve always done what is best for you baby girl. And it’s you that this is about. It isn’t about me. It’s about you: beautiful, perfect, growing by the day YOU.
Tim Tam Bliss Balls
- 1 cup dry roasted almonds
- 10 medjool dates, seeds removed
- 2 tablespoons almond butter
- 1 tablespoon maple syrup
- 2 tablespoons cacao or cocoa
- 1/2 teaspoon concentrated natural vanilla extract
- pinch of salt
- Place the almonds and dates into your processor and blend just to roughly chop. You want to leave in some texture and crunch.
- Add the remaining ingredients to your processor and mix to gently combine. Press and shape the mixture into balls and place into the fridge to set.
- Eat and enjoy!