Say “when”

by | Apr 8, 2011 | Uncategorized | 19 comments

The fingernail marks, little red scratches across the milky white of my flesh, tell me that the time has come.

I have been more than generous.

At night, I would pray for them. "Are you there, God? It's me, Angie." Eleven years old. Twelve. Fifteen now. Sixteen. Jesus, were they ever going to come?

So you can understand that when they finally arrived, I fell madly in love. They were perfectly round, full and firm. Oh, they were lovely.

And still, when the time came to share them, I was not possessive. I gave freely and often. I was the very model of generosity.

But as they say, you give an inch, they take seventeen months.

That was Round One. Truthfully, I only just escaped in one piece. There was an adjustment period, a time when I fretted that things would never be the same, and then finally, the acceptance that things definitely weren't the same but that it had all been worth it.

Round Two, I swore, would be different. I would learn the lessons of Round One. And the lessons were never trust the male species to say "when." Never leave important decisions in the hands of the male species. The male species could not be trusted. With anything. Ever.

This time, I am in charge.

Little fingernails scrape angrily across my skin.

"NO!" I say, the volume of my voice designed to cut through the indignant screaming. Tears are streaming down his flushed cheeks. He is distraught.

I pull him in closer. Cuddle him to my chest and speak soothingly.

He arches his back and wails, "Nonono, amummaaah!"

He is clawing at me again, confused at this change. We are in the rocking chair, the stereo is playing softly, the same lullabies as always, the songs that come right before sleep. And he is tired. 

So where is the boob?

My baby son and I are engaged in the ultimate power struggle. At the end of the month, he will be seventeen months old. The age his older brother was finally weaned.

I am done. I want to take back my prized possessions. What is left of them. Because if breasts are twins, mine are no longer identical. One boob has been so thoroughly neglected that it has resumed normal boob status. The remaining 'working' boob, having taken on the job of two, is robust with milky goodness.

I fear that we may have gone too far to ever get back. I fear the damage has been done. I am eager, no, desperate, to salvage what I can.

But still, my sweet baby boy writhes angrily in my arms. His blue eyes, rimmed red with tears and tired, search my face beseechingly.

And soon, they reveal the telltale sign of imminent sleep, rolling back into his sweet little head. He is quiet now, content.

I need a miracle.   

Mine! 
 LD was the first to claim ownership. 

 

This was written in response to a writing prompt from Tne Red Dress Club.

Someone has stolen something from you. Something of tremendous value. What will you do to get it back? Or will you give up?

Hello friends

advertisement

I’m Angie!  I mum. I write. I wife. My husband would say this is the correct order.  He’s so neeeedy. I live with my family in Melbourne, Australia, where I complain about the weather for 90% of the year – but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Except maybe in Lake Como, waving to my neighbours George and Amal each morning.

Insta Love

19 Comments

  1. Helene

    I knew EXACTLY what you were referring to as soon as I read the line “Are you there God?”! I love that you were straightforward about what you were referring to without actually having to come right out and write the word “boobs”!

    You captured that power struggle so eloquently, I found myself nodding my head even though I was never able to breastfeed successfully. I pumped instead and felt this wierd love/hate relationship with that damn thing.

    Love the pic at the end, esp how he’s laying “claim” to your boobs!! His face says it all!!!!

    Reply
  2. Melissa

    Oh my God, we are channelling each other again but of course you are WAY more eloquent.

    I get it – I really do. I haven’t posted my own story about this yet because I’m struggling to work out just what the eff I’m trying to say. It’s like verbal vomit at the moment and probably because it is such an emotive issue.

    Good luck with the weaning and I hope you get the girls back soon.

    Reply
  3. Mommy Shorts

    You rocked it! A very different take then mine even though we both lost our boobs. I loved the beginning with you waiting for them to come in. I remember that time vividly— looking at your friends and wondering when it was going to happen for you. And my baby totally favored one over the other so I get the lopsided thing too! Well done.

    Reply
  4. Mandy

    LOVED this. I loved the reference to “Are you there God?” I loved how you alluded to your boobs, alluded to your sons, but never came right out and said what you were talking about.

    And that picture is adorable!

    Reply
  5. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Ha, yes, I thought the Blume reference would be an instant spoiler!

    I can absolutely imagine that pumping would result in a love/hate relationship. It’s bloody hard work!

    Thanks so much for stopping by, Helene.

    Reply
  6. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Oh Mel, we ARE operating on the same frequency, aren’t we?

    I look forward to reading your post. I am completely failing at the weaning. I thought LD was difficult to wean. Ahhhhhh!

    Reply
  7. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Thanks, Ilana. It was a different take….but I still like yours better.

    Oh, waiting for the boobs to come in was agony….

    Reply
  8. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Thank you!

    And yes, he sure was stinking cute! Still is – less handsy with the boobs now though, thankfully.

    Reply
  9. Sara

    I really love the title of this post: “say when”- I mean how perfect is that?!

    You did an amazing job of setting up the anticipation of when will ‘they’ arrive and how you madly fell in love when they did. I SO can appreciate that.

    I think it is a great description of the irony of what mothers deal with when it comes to boobs, you want to salvage them for your own self image and yet they are such an important provider for your babies. You did a great job of painting this dilemma. nice work!

    Reply
  10. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Thank you so much, Sara.

    I was so enamoured of my boobs. Pride and joy stuff for me, seriously. And yet, I was devoted to the notion of breastfeeding my children.

    The two do not always happily co-exist, you’re right.

    It has been worth it….but lordy, I want them back!

    Reply
  11. MJ

    I want mine back too! Am hoping this will be within the next few months as, sadly, I am quite over it.

    I love that you desperately wanted boobs – so did I. I was one of the last of my friends to need/get a bra… and even then, ‘need’ is a bit of an optimistic word. They were teeny for ages. They took their sweet time to arrive… but by the time I was in my late teens, the phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’ took on some resonance for me.

    I hope you get yours back very soon. I remember it wasn’t easy with LD, so I have my fingers crossed for you and Zee. x

    Reply
  12. Mama Track

    I can’t believe I missed this! I too struggled to wean a toddler and feel your pain. Hope things are going well for you guys.

    Reply
  13. Tracey

    OOOh Zyon for comfort will drop 1 or both hands deep into my cleavage & just lay there falling asleep on my chest, he self weaned bang on 18mths…
    Nope boobies arent the same, but they fed my babies & they are still adored by hubby!! pmsl

    Reply
  14. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    My boobs were the same, MJ. I was seventeen before they really came in and when I went on the pill, BOOM! Overnight knockers of deluxeness. True story. They’ve stayed deluxe ever since.

    Until now. Fucking kids……

    Reply
  15. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Thanks, you.

    Well, we are no further along. I am really adrift with this. I have no small clue what I am doing.

    Reply
  16. Angie @ The Little Mumma

    Little man! They sure do love the boobs, huh?

    I don’t regret feeding – and I’ll do it again. But I need them to myself for a while!

    Self-weaned, huh? Hmmm, I feel like I’d be holding out for a miracle….

    Reply
  17. Kylie

    ROFL!!! I’ve had four of the little critters now but the damage was def done with the first! You’re 100% right tho, it is SO worth it!!!

    Reply

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published.