So, I think it was March 10th that I stopped the nightly breast feeding with Jonathan. A little over 3 years. And that was it. I was done. He was too, though he sorta whined about it and cried some crocodile tears. I had to pull the pillow from him and throw it down the stairs (it's now hidden under my mother's bed). From time to time he goes to reach for it at bedtime, but then remembers "Bye Bye, pillow!" Yup, bye bye pillow.
They say that you'll know when you are ready to stop. I wasn't ready up until that day - no, actually a couple of days earlier he forgot to get the pillow and did not feed and I thought, yay, finally. It was at that point I knew I was done. Jonathan decided to request milk the next night and I was disappointed by the request. And so, a few days later, I just stopped cold turkey.
I've had no physical discomfort. There is still milk there when I squeeze my nipple. I suppose it'll be there for awhile. But I'm done. The woman who when first found pregnant declared she would NEVER breast feed ended up doing so for over 3 years. She was done. Done, Done, Done.
And yet so grateful.
I really have to praise God for the privilege of being able to nourish Jonathan this way. Grateful for the bonding that can only be experienced through breastfeeding and particularly the sweet closesness at night over the last year or so of our once a day night-time feedings. I'm grateful that the Lord made it so that we were both pretty much ready to close the door. I'm not experiencing any sadness, regret or guilt. Thank you, Jesus. I know if I had ended it any earlier, I would have gone through all of that emotional trauma. The Lord made a way out of us having to take that journey.
I do believe that Jonathan was also ready, but strangely, his night time ritual got a bit out of hand that first week or so. He would not lay down. Kept getting up and running around until he was exhausted enough to sleep. He got a cold last week and that seemed to have brought him back to his regular night time cycle of simply hitting the pillow and falling out into a semi-coma for10+hours. All is good now.
You'll see that wine relaxation is in my subject line. Well, I'm back to my wine fix at night. Something that I never really stopped when I was breastfeeding - well, save the first year of breast-feeding - but sorta took a break from at the start of this year when I did that fast with Lolita and the gals.
I suppose Jesus should be my night cap and my morning cap and my all day cap. I should be meditating on Him moreso than the swirl of red in my wine glass.
But wine is easier - and I guess, more satisfying.
Why is that? Why are so many things so much easier than spending quiet time with the Lord? Why do I experience more quiet and peace breast feeding Jonathan or watching a Hockey game or catching episodes of Property Brothers and House Hunters than I do sitting quietly with the Lord?
Why Lord?
I know that true victory and peace in life comes primarily from spending time with the Lord. I know we're supposed to also meditate on the word. However, just the actual time with Him is most important. Yet, I find it so hard to do.
More quiet time - more simply being in His presence would most likely quash my lingering angry outbursts of aggravation and irritation - such as was displayed yesterday when I so RUDELY interrupted the Financial Peace Class. Background: I arrived late to class with Jonathan in tow and he refused to be quiet and so I got up in a huff, making more noise than I had already done entering the class late and then in my anger slammed the door - basically taking about 10 minutes of the classes well-paid qualtity time focusing on the lesson at hand. Just another bone-headed, selfish, self-centered move on my part in a life that seems all about self, self, self, at the expense of other's happiness.
Anyway, I can't shake the reqret of what happened. The weight of this regret feels like it will never ease up. Regardless of God's forgiveness and His ability to throw my sin as far as east is from west, I can't seem to shake off the sense that there is no way to make this up to those people and to the class leader, Tom. Yes, they can forgive, but they can't forget, just like I'm having a hard time doing. I have to suffer the consequences, and I'm not sure I'm doing a good job of it. I simply don't want to go back to the class and at this point, I doubt that I will.
Call me a coward. I just don't see how a simple, I'm so sorry for my rudeness and selfishness, please forgive me, will make a difference. Maybe it will. I don't know.
Regret strangulation. Suffocating. Relentless. A constant companion for me. I don't live carefree. Every thing I do is couched in the darkness of severe consequences. Bolts of light are rare. However, I will bask in what light I do receive. Like Jonathan's laughter and his ability to remember characters in books, even those I've only read to him a couple of times. His beautiful eyes and how he looks so intently at me some times. The joy he experiences when we sing together or dance in our silly way. I need to just rest in those moments with him, so that the light of his innocence casts a beam of brightness over all the areas of my life that right now seem dark and hopeless.
I love the wine. It's not enough. Timely ending to breast feeding and having my body fully back to myself. Not enought. Quiet time with the Lord - hard enough. Not enough. What is the answer?
No man. No job. No perfect body, ageless skin, published book, nada. What is it Lord?
What is it Lord?
Receiving His forgiveness.
Not putting Him back on the cross to re-do a work that He has already finished.
My sins are forgiven. Past Present Futuere.
Get over it, Kim.
Whether or not they forgive you. Whether they scowl, hate, turn their noses up to you, find you repulsive, wish you never came back to class...
You are forgiven by the Father. He saw it about to happen. He let it happen. He says, okay Kim. Return to me. My arms are wide open to comfort you in all your shame and regret. In all your anger and remorse. Let me comfort you.
The class will never be able to comfort you or forgive you enough. It's impossible.
Run to the one who forgives COMPLETELY and who remembers your sin, NO MORE.
Run to Jesus.
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