kim through
   the looking glass

Gil is just over two weeks old. Although in some ways it feels like he’s fit right into our little family like he was never missing, in other ways, he is still very new, as are our experiences with him.

Gil has an almost constant need to nurse. Forget every 2 hours. Forget every hour. When this boy is awake, he is stuck like glue to my breast. When he sleeps, he sleeps hard - 1 or 2 hours at a time, minimum.

Gwen seems to be taking this in stride - most of the time, anyways. She seems to realize that “baby” needs mommy and needs to nurse. In fact, two days ago, Gwen was in my room with Gil and I while I was dressing for the day. Gil was propped up on a pillow on the bed looking around and Gwen was watching him. “Mommy. Baby.” She said. In Gwen speak, this means, ‘Mommy, I want you to hold Gil.’ I told her that just as soon as I was ready, I’d pick him up. “Mommy. Baby. Sling.” She said, again. I think I’ve got a novice babywearer on my hands! Read the rest of this entry »

Gwen has decreased the amount she’s nursing dramatically over the past month or so. It began with her no longer wanting to nurse to sleep - she would nurse, on both sides, but then before she would fall asleep, she would pull off and want to snuggle with Brad to fall asleep. We decided to go with it and changed our bedtime routine from books-nurse-sleep to nurse-books-sleep. I nurse Gwen, get her pj’s and nighttime diaper on and brush her teeth then call Brad up to read her books and put her down. It’s somewhat a relief to know that when Love Bug arrives, there will be a pair of arms available to hold him/her while the other parent is doing their portion of the bedtime routine. Read the rest of this entry »

As I’m making dinner, my daughter toddles into the kitchen and comes to me, holding up her little arms.

“Up?” I ask.

“Up!” She says emphatically in her perfect baby girl voice.

I pick her up and snuggle her to me. She pulls back, grinning, and signs “milk” enthusiastically with both hands. I look at the stove - not yet preheated.

“Okay. Let’s go have milk,” I agree.

I settle into a dining room chair and hold her close to me. She nurses, looking up at me. I gaze back at her. She pokes my nose, my eyes, my mouth. I look out the back door to the green trees that lies beyond. Love flows between us.

Such a simple act.

And yet the most powerful act of mothering I know.

I was on the Motherwear Breastfeeding Blog today with tears glistening in my eyes. Go check out the beautiful guest post there entitled “the last num num“. What a beautiful baby-led weaning story … sounds like such a gentle, peaceful process. I hope it can be like that for Gwen and I, too.