To mourn and celebrate at the same time

Have you ever had so much to say the weight of the words crush you into silence?

That's how I feel trying to write about all this. It's been an emotional couple of months. My thoughts feel congested and they're all trying to spill out of my brain at once. It's a bit uncomfortable.

The first thing I want to convey are the two warring sides - the overwhelming gratitude and the sadness for what will never be.

I think a lot of people try to push away their feelings of sadness if there are things they think they should be grateful for...but it's not one or the other. I try to remind myself this multiple times per day. I can feel sad and mourn for things lost and also be happy/excited/grateful for what I do have.

Cleo is alive. She is thriving and growing and proving to us DAILY that she is a miracle.

For this, I am grateful and overjoyed.

But I also will never get back these first few months of her life. I will not have that normal baby experience with her. Her first months have been riddled with uncomfortable procedures, lots of poking and prodding, beeps from machines at all hours, apparatuses on her face, down her throat, in her body. It hasn't been filled with snuggling and comfortable blankets, soft clothes and warm baths, the comfort of being held.

I think the biggest thing I will mourn is my diminishing milk supply. I've been pumping religiously every 2-3 hours since the moment she was born. I've hauled this pump with me everywhere, making sure to excuse myself during family outings to sit in the car and pump. I've set my alarm and woken up at night to sit in the dark, exhausted, and pump. I've consumed too many supplements to count...tried too many suggestions that did nothing to increase my supply and felt helpless and desperate as I watch the drops slowly vanish.

I never produced very much, the most I ever pumped in one session was 12 ml (that's both breasts combined, BTW). And that was once...most times I pumped 3-5ml combined. That's a minuscule amount. Yet, I kept going. If you have a suggestions TRUST ME I heard it and earnestly tried it.

The other day I was talking with a friend at the Ronald McDonald house about this and she suggested to me a million things to try...a million things I had already done like an insane pumping zealot.

My vision was to breastfeed Cleo once she was out of the NICU. Even if I only pumped a few millimeters per day, I was going to keep going but then...it all just stopped. I've been pumping this whole week and have drops (literally a couple drops) to show for it. Even the lactation department at the hospital is telling me to stop...while also saying it's my choice but telling me it's pretty much done. My supply will not magically increase to 1oz or more.

I hoped holding Cleo would help, that it would give me a boost, but it didn't. For some reason, my body is saying "no".

So I'm going to mourn for this loss...while also being grateful for all the good things happening right now. I can mourn and celebrate.

My baby is alive.

Though my body has failed me in MANY ways lately, Cleo is doing spectacularly well.

So if you see me bottle feeding her when she gets home, please don't say anything about breastfeeding. It's a very difficult subject. Just tell me how adorable she is, because that will be a happy thing to talk about.