I held a baby yesterday. I fed him from a bottle. He is 6 months old and loves to eat, he is a tiny little baby but he is healthy and beautiful. The bottle was mine, the milk was mine, the baby was not.
It is hard to write about this because I don't want to sound prideful ain any way. I know my gift is from God alone and nothing I could do would have given it to me any other way.
When Atlas was born I knew I wanted to pump and save whatever I could. I knew too many people who had had production issues and I did not want to be one of them. I also was determined to nurse MY baby for at least a full year. With much work and dedication I have pumped and donated over 5500 ounces to Get PUMPed. I still have another 800 ounces (and growing) in my freezer.
So one day I get an email forwarded to me from the director of Get PUMPed. It is from a mom who is grateful for the organization. Her baby can't stomach any other mom's milk my mine. He is fussy and pukey and has skin issues with the other milk... but not mine. He can't even tolerate formula... but loves my milk. My milk has kept this tiny little precious gift from God alive and healthy. I burst into tears and tried to explain to my husband who was instantly concerned with what was wrong. He had to come read over my shoulder.
The first time I donated, I cried. I was giving away all this nourishment that God had Blessed me with... all of this that was supposed to be for MY baby. I was taking it from MY baby. Depriving him of something meant specifically for him. But those tears were quickly dissolved at my next pumping... yeah, my baby would always have enough. More fish and loaves. And believe me, I dont know where it comes from. I was a glorified A-cup.. padding and underwires required. These days I wake up and am practically nursing on them myself.
On Monday, I get a call from the director of Get PUMPed. They want to meet me. I dropped everything and said YES!YES!!YES!!! We met Tuesday at 2.
Their older son walked in first. I have never met such an eloquent person in my life, and here was this bright and brilliant 10 (today) year old. He was charming! And then I met Baby J and his parents.
I have never felt eyes on me like I did that day. The dad just looked at me like I had done something amazing. He looked at me with awe. I have preformed my whole life on stages for recitals and plays and never had a reaction like that. I was a little bit uncomfortable. Basically I see pumping as something I have to do. It is just part of my day, not a big deal.. but to them, it gave them a life. Even my husband told me as we left that what I did WAS actually amazing to him.
Our babies looked at each other. They are Milk Brothers and will always have that in common. Who else do you know has a relationship like that? I hope they will know each other forever.
I held this little boy with my first bottle ever, of my milk, and fed this baby. My baby wont take a bottle... we are on to sippy cups when he needs a little extra fluids, but otherwise he is a boob-baby. Baby J was so calm and just looked all around. He was peaceful. I asked if he needed to burp, and with my milk they said he doesn't. Which is weird. My baby has never had to either. I hugged this baby and he hugged me back. I fell in love. This family is a good Christian, God loving family. They are missionaries who are helping children in other countries. They are just beautiful and I could not have handpicked them ... my milk would not have been worthy of them. But for some reason it is. I am so Blessed to know that I have helped them in such a way. Something so easy and comes so naturally for me, has meant so much to someone else.
It's really hard for me to wrap my mind around. It is just to big for me. I am just honored I get to be a part it.
(Atlas is still dressed for Santa, we had pictures earlier in the day)
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
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