When Nathan was two weeks old, I sat in the Lactation office of our hospital. The lactation consultant asked me what my goals for feeding him were (this was after we knew he needed supplementation and I had decided to pump exclusively). I didn’t know.
“You need a goal! If I don’t know what your goal is, I can’t help you reach it.”
So I thought.
“I want to make it past six weeks first, since that’s when I had to stop with my other son.” And then? “Then, I think, my big goal, and this will probably never happen and I’m okay if it doesn’t but I’d be thrilled if it did…I’d like to make it to six months. That way, he’ll start solids and, if it happens, he’ll never have been totally on formula and I think that would be cool.”
And since then, I’ve passed six weeks. And each week I plug away, celebrating each Tuesday when I’ve made it yet another week.
It’s been six additional weeks, and on Wednesday, Nathan will be three months old.
I’m halfway to the goal I never dreamed I’d reach.
I’ve not only (more than!) doubled the amount of milk I make from Colton, but I’ve doubled the time I’ve been able to give it.
Suddenly, that huge, seemly impossible goal seems achievable.
I might just make it.