A few of my favorite things about breastfeeding...or not!

Ayende










Washing breast pump equipment in warm, soapy water...







Boiling for five minutes...















Drying...

















Eating nutritious meals

Departures...

I cry. Knew this moment was coming intellectually, had no idea how my heart would react. Sunday night, 6pm. Must get Ayende’s things ready for daycare tomorrow. His first day. Buy the carseat base for Leo’s car. HELLO? Sunday night. All of the stores close at 7pm. Google: Peg Pérego Car Seat Base. Craigslist LA posting in Pasadena. Car seat base AND car seat for $50.00. Buy it. Run to Vons. Forget Babies R’ Us for now. Go down the baby aisle. Happy to be there! I HAVE A BABY!!! After three months, I still have to remember to be in the moment. Look into the dark eyes. Touch the soft skin. Caress the small head. Kiss on the lips. I made him. I’m still making him with my milk.

I write Aunty Moo a note: “Aunty Moo, Here is my precious baby boy Ayende! Please handle him with love, embraces, milk, laughter, rocking and joy. You are now part of our family as a caretaker of Ayende. Welcome to the journey. Here are a few treats for the way… Sincerely, Angelina, Ayende’s Mom.” I include alphabet vanilla cookies and tea biscuits. I cry, hard, as I write it. My heart is overwhelmed with emotion.

Then I write to Carmen: " Amiga, I need your encouragement right now. Ayende is going to his first day of daycare tomorrow and my heart is breaking. I'm not worried, just feel sad that my beautiful boy will be in someone else's arms tomorrow. I know this is my rite of passage, but the grief is a tidal wave drowning my heart. Love you sis and know you understand."

Carmen writes back: "Just got home from a birth dear heart, so did not see this yesterday. I more than understand sister heart. But we know from the last time that this is the best thing for you and your family in the long run. Hold on sister. I will be sending tons of love your way today and will also light a candle for you."

I sit in the office filling out final paperwork for Leo to take to Aunti Moo, the daycare provider, and sob quietly. I don't want Amir or Leo to hear me. I feel stupidly out of control. I walk to the living room to add last things to what seems like Ayende's luggage for a trip abroad. I eventually get in bed with Ayende. Suddenly his soft skin smells like the best thing on earth to me. He looks like the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. I gladly offer him milk and hold him oh, so close. And I tell myself that I have to trust. I must trust, or this will never work. I fall asleep with baby in my arms.

A small gesture... For Myself!

The truth is, is that I've never known how to manage my finances. Friends who have watched me buy things I could not afford or struggle with my feast and famine tendencies for the last twenty years, can attest to this. It has been my determination for the last seven years to work out my finances. I can say, finally, that I've made some progress. I am not a crazy spender anymore... This Christmas, I decided to spend most of my present money on Amir, who passionately believes in Santa Clause and getting most of his Christmas list, and then decided to buy Ayende, Leo and myself one thing each. I bought myself the entire Twilight series in hardback, but then Breaking Dawn was quickly claimed by Julieta, and New Moon was quickly taken by Amir. So, I'm left with Twilight and Eclipse (which I'm reading for the second time). I'll borrow Amir's, Breaking Dawn, when I'm done. So here is the small gesture for myself. Because the physical toll of having a newborn weighs on me everyday, I take a super, duper hot bath every night. It relieves the aches and pains. I usually read magazines in the tub, but am reluctant to do so now, after I discovered the flakes of print peel off of the pages when I get it wet. So the other night, I was tempted to take my brand new, hardback Eclipse book in the tub. Something inside of me, that voice that instructs us on acceptable behavior, resisted taking this brand new beauty into my steaming bath because the pages would shrivel and the cover would bend with humidity. As I make so many adult adjustments to what I am "supposed to do", which I will gladly do, because that is what is good for my marriage and my children, this particular should do, just seemed not worth it. I got my book, took off the dust cover, eased myself into the tub that turned my legs bright red, and with soaking hands, grabbed my book, making sure to leave wet hand prints on the front and back cover, and rebelliously turned the pages, making sure to get the corners nice and wet. This morning, I picked up my book and noticed the front cover was hopelessly contorted, and it was hard to find what page I was on because most of the pages are creased or withered now. I felt happy. While most of my life is shared with those closest to me, my small gesture of taking my brand new book into the bath, and its resulting condition, remind me that there are still parts of my life, which are my own. I get to do whatever I want to do with those spaces and I have to answer to no one.