Poetry Friday: A Nursing Poem

Happy Poetry Friday, friends....I am so pleased to be celebrating again!

Today I am sharing a new poem about the end of nursing my baby. I am slowly weaning him and the whole family seems to be moving on towards more "big kid" focused stuff. Less teething rings and mobiles and whole heck of a lot more Lego.

One of the pieces of motherhood that I really want to make fresh for myself is living a regret-free existence fully in the current stage my kids are experiencing. I love babies. But I hope I never let that inclination cloud my vision about 7 year olds or 15 year old boys or 35 year old sons. All stages are lovely. All stages matter. All stages should be desired and remembered and looked forward to hopefully.

A stage is ending at my house. This may be the last baby I nurse, we are thinking about being done with the baby stage. Its a momentous decision and it feels exciting and liberating as well as heavy and unnerving. I feel a lot of cultural pressure to "never want my babies to grow up" but truthfully, I think that's toxic. So here is my alternative take.....

 Nursing My Last
I have made boys out of milk.
I have watched their thighs bulge,
And their hair emerge like cornsilk,
Small ideas quickening in their eyes
As warm white liquid poured into
Their verdant bodies.
I have had a prism of maternal life.
There were stained glass mornings
With snuggly Madonna feedings
And nights of caught-breath rage
After a jagged bite in the felted dark,
Cradling my chest and roaring at
The swaddled baby.
This life-giving beginning stage is
An amazing, vulnerable, terrifying
Kind of magic.
All full of Now.
Beyond supply, infections, latch,
Weaning, herbal teas, night feedings,
Cabbage leaves, mastitis, pumping,
Le Leche League, Dr. Sears,
Sheila Kitzinger, blebs, letdown,
colostrum, milk comas,  hindmilk
and learning to nurse lying down...
There has been the lesson of 
Now.
Pausing wherever it was needed.
Nursing in strange and sacred places.
Quitting urgent or exciting things.
I have learnt it four times now.
In the clasp of infant teachers.
Stop. 
Be.

Storms and Sniffles

Spending a rainy day in today. There's a terrific wind outdoors bending the tops of the tall trees in the neighborhood. We were out this morning with our homeschool co-op pals and as we drove home the road was littered with fallen leafy branches blowing around in circles. We are supposed to get a big rain to boot but so far we've seen nothing but clouds and a lot of big gusts. We've got a crazy level of humidity today which makes me glad that I pre-baked dinner last night to make co-op day easier on myself.

The nice thing about stormy days pre-rain is that they always bring really interesting light. Fascinating to watch how different colors look in the changing palette we have coming in through our windows. These are lipstick pink chard stems....kind of a late summer echo of the rhubarb stalks. Great colors, right?

Baby Pom is sniffling away from a little cold. Although he is being very resolute in spite feeling stuffy and having a very pint-sized and tragic, little cough. I think we will spend tonight nursing in the rocker and propping him up on a stack of pillows between sessions. Time to get out the Vicks and drink extra cups of tea after the sun goes down to keep up with the milk demand.