Thursday, July 1, 2010

if wishes were fishes

It's no reflection on my job. I love my job - really I do. But three months maternity was not enough.

I think my readers know how important breastfeeding is to me. Especially given that it was such a triumph. It came easily, but I spent nine months of pregnancy prepared for a previous condition to affect my ability to produce milk. The minute I realized it wasn't going to be an issue, I was hooked. It became a top priority. And both the turtle and I were champs. It was part of our routine. A great way to bond. And an activity that was, and is,  uniquely ours.

But pumping sucks. I know mum - "sucks" is an awful word - but it does. I hate it. And I worry that it's compromising my milk supply. Perhaps I'm just not patient enough. Perhaps I have a difficult time relaxing at work. Perhaps I would do better in an environment where there was a space reserved for nursing mothers. But whatever I could have that would work is pointless mentioning because what I have, does not.

Then, when I get home and I have my little guy in my arms it all becomes second nature again. I'm relaxed and he's satisfied. He continues to transition from the bottle to the breast with little to no problem.

I am committed to continue nursing for one year - and it would have been heavenly to have my leave coincide with that time frame. Some will think I'm selfish for even wishing for more time. My three months was a luxury compared to what many women have. And yes, I am eternally grateful to my supervisor, my employer and my union for the time and support. But that's the career woman speaking. Not the mommy. The mommy misses home.

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