Zen and Moms

Dear Ri,
Someday you'll be 30 and I'll be 58. Hopefully we'll drink a glass of bubbly together and we will be happy. More importantly, you will be happy. Maybe you'll have a husband and a child through which your father and I will desperately try to re-create your childhood.
Assuming you will be our only child, will we be one of those parents that your husband inherits along with you !!! Eeeks. I can imagine your husband rolling his eyes as you book 4 plane tickets to the Carribean and I pretend not to hear you whisper " But they have nobody else". Hopefully I would have written a book by then and dedicated to you and my paternal grand-father. Through my years of struggling through Engineering, he would constantly remind me that I had it in me to be a good journalist. I wish you had a chance to meet him. He died when he was 91, two years before you were born and I have tears in my eyes as I type this. Damm the prolactin!
As much as we all dread the big 30, it does come with its own benefits. One among them, is a little bit of Zen. The things that may have upset you in your late 20's do not seem to anymore. The need to snap back at an snappy spouse. The need to put a parent or an in-law under the microscope. The need to relate your happiness directly to others. You may want to do all of the above but sometimes you learn to let it go.
Instead you turn all Meredith Grey with your view on the really 'terrible' things. She talks about how you wish for all the things that you 'think' are terrible to come back when the really 'terrible' things happen.
So, I'm trying to live a little like that now. You are here. I am here. We are healthy. You are happy. (except for the whole weaning thing). Well, I'm all Meredith Grey kinda happy. Your dad is here. His Blackberry is here. His calls are here.

That's enough for now. I guess.

Love,
Mom

For what it's worth it was worth all the while

When I imagined the process of Ri getting weaned, I imagined RD and I taking a break away from her for maybe two or three nights while she learnt to cope with the loss of nursing. Everyone around me including my ped said she would forget by the time I returned.

So I would associate Langkawi and Bali every time I thought about weaning her. I imagined sitting by the pool, tears glistening behind my sunglasses.....

Well, here I am, in good old hometown. Its been three days since I've nursed her and I think the nursing phase of my life may be officially over. No Bali. No Langkawi. It just happened like that. A couple of days back, my sister who is here on a break from the United States kept encouraging me to stop whenever Ri demanded my milk. And, I did, just like that.

After all, this was a long time coming. I had wanted to feed her till she was two. And well, the birthday had come and gone. It was time to let go.

I did not wean her in the most organic way in the book. I told her a a creature called 'Magai' had taken away my milk and would get angry if she continued to feed. And, she believed me, almost sneeringly. Ri thinks monsters are funny people.

It's been three days and she's fine. We spend a lot of time hugging and kissing and cuddling. I hold her close to reassure her that I am still there. She still gets my warmth and gets to sleep at my chest. Just no milk.

I feel unexplainably low. A lot of thoughts plague my mind. I don't remember the last time I fed her. Should I have recorded it in some way? ( I know that sounds creepy but figuratively speaking). Should I have made an occasion out of it. Should I have held her close and sung her a song. Was I lying lazily on the bed reading a paperback romance as she fed or was I watching an episode of 'Parenthood'.
I don't remember.

I've never spoken openly about nursing her for two years. There were days when I enjoyed it. Days when I was tired of it. Days when I would have been tired without it. Days when I felt a bit ashamed about the fact that I was still feeding a toddler. Days when I attributed her 'genius' to my breast milk.
I nursed her through fevers and bed-falls, tantrums and tummy-aches, after ear-piercings and
head-shavings, through marathon road trips and aeroplane take-offs and landings. When she hated travel-food, I nursed her till reprieve. I must thank the breast-milk gods. If I could go back in time, I would do it all over again.

So why did I choose to feed her this long? A lot had to do with how easy it is to take care of a child who nurses apart from all the 'love' and 'security' stuff. I think most of it had to do with the fact that RD wants only one child and I felt that I wanted to continue this beautiful natural process as long as I could, for this might be my only sweet baby. Well, take a dad who wants one baby and a mom who really does not know what she wants but feels no internal or external pressure to have a second one as yet  = our happy family with our darling Ri.

I feel strangely low right now. A mommy-friend said it is like 'an end of an era' thing and it is natural to mourn. Maybe it's the dip in prolactin. Maybe it's acknowledging that our babies grow up. You never know how much something means to you and how much you take it for granted till you have to give it up.

So I am doing some self-torturing right now. You know, like when you break up with someone and lie in bed thinking of all the wonderful moments you spent with them. I remember the first moment Ri was handed to me and how she took to my breast. I remember falling in love with her, over and over again as she fed, me stroking her hair and feeling her soft skin. I remember millions of episodes of Desperate Housewives, Criminal Minds, Greys Anatomy, 90210 and Gossip Girl that I watched while I fed her. I was never nursery-rocking-chair feeding mom!

I have read a lot of articles on how you should nurse till mom and baby mutually agree to quit. For the last three days, Ri still asks for milk but I manage to distract her. I still feel like giving in sometimes and 'experiencing' it one last time. So, I don't know if both of us are ready yet. I don't know if I stopped nursing for her, for me, for those around me. I don't know if I stopped so that she could spend more time getting to know me, than focusing on feeding. I guess I'll never know.
So here's to a new chapter for Ri and me. Wish me luck.

Happy Birthday Darling!

Ri is now two.

Pongal 2012

Dear Ri,

It is Pongal 2012 today and I am sitting in front of the laptop strumming away at the keys. You are with your father’s parents. I am sure you must be having a gala time over there. I appreciate the ‘alone’ time I have right now. I have so much of work to do on the computer, in the computer, outside the computer. Bah.

I wonder how old you will be when you begin to read these posts I write for you. Will they still be available? What if some new technology comes and eats all this away? And, then your grandmother will talk to me from the Oujja board and say “ This is why good ol’ letters are more reliable”.

Ri. My fingers can barely write a “To-Do list’” leave alone these long blog posts. I can barely hold a pen anymore and my hands get all quivery and shaky when I start to write something. So we just have to hope that the technology gods keep smiling at us and do not destroy the posts I write for you.

Sometimes I wonder why I blog about you and for you. Is it some melodramatic effort to be in touch with you if something were to happen to me? Not to worry Ri. If something like that were to happen, I will probably haunt you and your poor father for the rest of your lives.
Curtains fluttering, I will check if he has matched the bedspread in your room with the curtains I am now fluttering. Is he keeping the fridge clean? Are their lids covering all the cups of food? Are you eating healthy? Did he seriously believe your “I am going for a sleepover story”?

Or, am I blogging so that someday some publisher will read my blogs and decide to offer me a book contract? Speaking of books, I desperately want to enter the Mills & Boon Aspiring Authors competition. Ri, I have such issues. I dream about winning and my parents and your father’s parents reading the winning entry and turning red in the face by all the ‘adult’ scenes I have crafted. You’ll probably know what I am talking about when you read this post.

I have a lot of things on my plate right now Ri. Our new apartment and your birthday party amongst other things…….

Wish me luck,

Love,

Mom

P.S: I ate a lot of Pongal today. A lot.