Sometimes people ask me how I could have been so persistant with the pump, day after day, month after long month. In a way, I see it not as if I was just going through an action, but as if I was creating.
I created food for my child.
Warm, healthy, pure love, filled with nutrients and antibodies to help him grow and keep him safe.
I wasn't just pumping, I was creating, like a musician haunted by a melody they simply must remember and lyrics they must convey to the one he loves. Like he would slave over a piece of paper and a piano, I slaved over a 22 lb hospital grade Ameda SMB.
And I created.
And now, as I sit here typing one handed while my baby son feeds, I see the beautiful fruits of my labor. I see him sated and peaceful, happy and warm, and loved inside and out.
Ambrose, this is my love song to you. I love you, my littlest son :)
Lily in a loafing barn
2 days ago