Saturday, November 5, 2011
One year ago today, my sweet little boy came home with me. I snuggled him up on the couch, laid down with him and took him to my breast. I bathed him, dressed him in pajamas, and held him close. I spent that night with my hand on his chest, hoping and praying that he would just keep breathing. I may have slept in fifteen minute intervals, but I don't think so. I set my alarm to wake up to feed him his allotted 1.75 ounces of expressed milk....Despite our 9 weeks in the NICU and the myriad of setbacks we'd had, I was still determined that I would get both of these babies to breast, come hell or high water. We'd been through enough, and I would now be the mama I'd always dreamed I'd be....tandem nursing, wearing both at once. I "woke"' the next morning, showered, readied my boy, and the two of us went back to the hospital to visit with my dear girl. Getting out of the house was outrageously difficult....I left a solid 2 hours than I'd planned to. "So what, mama," I told myself, "this takes practice."