"If the God you believe in as an idea doesn’t start showing up in what happens to you in your own life, you have as much cause for concern as if the God you don’t believe in as an idea does start showing up. It is absolutely crucial, therefore, to keep in constant touch with what is going on in your own life’s story and to pay close attention to what is going on in the stories of others’ lives. If God is present anywhere, it is in those stories that God is present. If God is not present in those stories, then they are scarcely worth telling." ~ Frederick Buechner

15 November 2011

Two Memories: On Milk

One of my favorite blog reads is a fellow young mom and a librarian. Her little boy is just about a month older than Brennan, so a big part of my heart resonates with her honest depiction of her mothering journey. I thoroughly identify with many, though not all, aspects of what she shares. This month for NaBloPoMo, she is writing letters to her son, something she did while pregnant.  I enjoyed her post today on learning humility through breastfeeding.

It reminded me of two of my favorite breastfeeding memories from this past year.

1. The memory of the first time Brennan fell asleep with a milk-drunk smile on his face is stamped in my mind forever. His mouth was open in a toothless grin of contentment as a tiny trickle of milk dribbled from the corner down his chin. Most of all, I remember the overwhelming feeling of tender love that swept over my heart in that memorable moment.

2. I was shopping at an outlet mall with a friend, and Brennan got hungry. There really was nowhere to discreetly nurse, so I sat on a bench outside, used my cover, and let him nurse. I was softly talking to him the entire time, so I didn’t see the woman approach me. When I looked up, she was smiling such a friendly smile, and she said, “I just want to tell you that I am SO glad you are breastfeeding your baby!” Motherhood is such a challenging, exhilarating, humbling, and sacrificial process. I am often lonely in the journey. These encouraging interactions with other women, no matter how brief, are like manna to my starving soul.

There was really no question in my mind as to whether or not I would do it, but I will never, ever regret choosing to breastfeed.

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