Coming to Terms

I feel empty. Lost. Like a failure or disappointment. Like im letting him down. Like I am letting myself down. Some may read this and think I am being dramatic. That has always been a fairly accurate way to describe me. Some may read this and think that I use words to my literary advantage to paint a vivid picture of the separation anxiety I feel. That (anxiety) has also been a fairly accurate way to describe me.

I've made the decision that I am not going to pump once I go back to school. This isn't a decision I made lightly. I've gone back and forth so many times this summer, but now that we are here...the last few days before I go back, I know I have made up my mind. In stead of relishing in the accomplishment of meeting my "make it until the end of summer/6 months old" goal, I am heartbroken and disappointed  that I'm being so selfish and quitting. I could be a fantastic teacher, a quality graduate student, maintain a clean home, find time to sculpt this awesome body, be a loving wife AND a nursing mother...but realistically, I feel like I am barely staying afloat in most categories. I can't skimp much more in grad school. The house isn't quite to the point of being condemned. This body is already rivaling <insert hottest female celebrity body you can think of>. Mike is a pretty low maintenance husband. So why am I barely floating? Where could I use more time? The school day. I don't want to be a mediocre teacher...just as I don't want to be a mediocre mother. By not pumping I can focus on school AT school then spend my nights with my guy. Also, he is becoming more interested in solids.

I know that making it this long should be a triumph, and it is. I know that I should be proud, and I am. Then why do I feel like a failure? Why do I feel so guilty?  Simple. Because I love my son. Now, of course, by saying this, someone somewhere will be offended because they think I have this secret agenda where I am implying that if you don't nurse/nurse as long as I did it's because you don't love your child. Shut up. Let me express my thoughts and worries without fear of judgment and stupid comments. I feel conflicted and that makes me angry. This should be simple. I want to dedicate as much time to being a great teacher as I feel is worthy of my time and money I put into becoming the dream I set for myself. I want to be what those 25-30 students deserve in an educator.

When I really think of it, I think my main emotion Is fear. I fear losing that special bond that only a mother can have with their child. I fear not being any different than any other adult in his life. I fear that he won't depend on me in the way that brings me comfort and joy. I know these are irrational, but I'm a woman. It's my prerogative.