Nursing is such an interesting endeavor that I'm writing up a whole series of posts for this blog, to send out to the blogosphere and perhaps provide some guidance, enlightenment or plain entertainment for other readers. It's still in the works however, and won't be posted for at least another few days. I'm hoping to work on it some more this weekend. (UPDATE: This is complete and can be found on the side of the page under 'If You're Curious' or here)
However, here's what happened today. I occasionally love nursing my son. I don't love it all the time (more on that later), but sometimes it is nice, and peaceful, other times it is laced with a bit of humor. This morning for example, I had to run to the dentist. Thinking that it was for a 30-minute cleaning, I brought Garrison.
First, I went through my 'Recipe for Success' which is good for any baby. I tanked him up at the house, feeding him on both sides, then changed him, bundled him just-the-way-he-likes-it in the carseat, and then drove the 30 minutes to the dentist's during Garrison's usual nap-time. I fully expected he would be down for a nice long 2-hour nap at least (like any other morning) and so decided that it would be no big deal to just bring Garrison along.
Ah, how wrong I was. Garrison, deciding firmly that today was NOT his day, nor would it be mine, set his mind cried on and off the whole way down. Then, deciding that the dentists office was a fairly threatening place, with it's peaceful fountain, quiet music, and muted colors - ramped up the crying to an all out scream. All my efforts to calm him were failing. In fact, I just seemed to be angering my child with the rocking, bundling, various position-switching and pacifier insertions. It was then, in between screams, that the dentist walked in. Surprising as I usually don't see her until AFTER the cleaning. Then it dawned on me. This wasn't a cleaning, this was to fill a few cavities.
I sighed, I looked at my very red-faced little son who glared up at me, mouth open and producing astounding amounts of noise and did what I didn't really want to do. I lifted up my shirt and whipped out my boob. Garrison showed his appreciation by immediately biting me hard, savaging my nipple like a puppy on a toy, and then just sitting there. Kid wasn't hungry, he just wanted to sit there.
So we sat there. I called my husband somewhat frantically, and when he was on his way, the dentist leaned me back and began the numbing process. The 'you'll feel a little pinch' speech was nothing compared to the punishment Garrison was giving my breast. Good distraction I guess.
Greg saved me by grabbing Garrison and taking him to daycare for the rest of my appointment. After I was done, I drove to pick Garrison up. He STILL hadn't slept, and was still crying. so I went back to my recipe for success (which is quickly turning out to not be that successful). I fed him again for 20 minutes or so (he actually ate this time), changed him, bundled him up the way he likes, kept the car nice and cool and quiet, and expected him to fall asleep.
Nope.
Suspicious of my efforts, Garrison did yet more screaming and crying all the way home. Not much you can do on the interstate but hope the crying stops and tell yourself running off the road or into another car isn't a good option at that point.
Once we were home, I had to prepare yet again. Bringing Garrison down off this kind of emotional ledge is always an tremendous effort. He was exhausted, having been up for 5+ hours, but stubbornly clinging to the idea that if he went to sleep the world would stop turning. To a cacophony of screams, I brought him inside, changed him, wrapped him in a different (more favorite) blanket, I got my nursing pillow and a book, and settled in.
Red faced, bleary-eyed, sniffling and snuffling, Garrison finally latched on and started to nurse. Almost immediately he conked out, only to wake up 4 minutes later and eye me suspiciously. Then he'd eat a bit, pass out, and repeat the process. This is the part of nursing I love. The fact that I can completely calm my kid down when needed. I also like watching him, because his stubbornness at 8 weeks old is astounding to me. For nearly an hour, he simply wouldn't let himself fall asleep. It was suspicious glares, bites, growls and cries every 5 minutes or so as he nursed.
Then, finally, I felt him give a great heaving sigh and gave in to the sleep that had been pulling on him like a wave. I held on to him a little while longer, finishing a chapter and then marveling at how lovely Garrison's face is when he's peaceful. Then, because it was fairly hot, I transferred him to his crib with a fan blowing gently over him.
That's where he is as I write this, and where he'll be for a few hours longer I imagine. Nursing is many things. It is at times painful, annoying, wildly time-consuming, the source of strange humor, and occasionally inconvenient. However, it is also a very simple way to calm your child, feed him, and simply spend time with him. I didn't envision my day going quite this way, and now, at 2:30 in the afternoon I've hardly accomplished anything. But I got Garrison to sleep, and sometimes that's quite a lot.
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