Pruning Our Life's Journey

I was listening to a podcast today by one of my favorite bloggers when she said something that resonated so clearly with me I had an Oprah "Ah-ha" moment. This particular wise woman was speaking of motherhood but used the metaphor of pruning a tree in reference to the growth that occurs during life's more difficult times. I thought about the lilac bush in my backyard and how it almost brought tears to my eyes when my Dad trimmed it (or butchered as I thought at the time) back in the summer we moved into our house. It looked so bare, so exposed as though I would never again see or smell a beautiful purple bloom transcend from its branches as one of the first promises of Spring. My Dad reassured me that the bush was in a transition phase and each year would bring fuller, more bountiful growth to the bush that was a huge selling point for the house. So I trusted him, and waited for Spring.

Some of the struggles in my life took me to places of raw vulnerability similar to that of a freshly pruned tree. In these dark places it is so difficult to see the beauty on the other side, the gift that having the courage and strength to strip yourself down to the core branches brings. If we allow ourselves the opportunity for growth, the bare, naked limbs can and will produce an abundance of green leaves and fresh lilac blossoms.

My Dad was right; the following Spring the lilacs bloomed and each year I sit in great anticipation of the fresh and simple beauty the bush brings. Sadly, this year, the lilacs did not bloom. The cold, frigid weather of early Spring stunted the first blossoms growth. As I reflect back on one of the most arduous transitions in my life, I look forward to the promises and growth of the upcoming seasons leading once again to the gift of lilacs given by Spring.

Letting Go

I am learning my first lesson in letting go. Along with my son's first birthday came the first steps in weaning although not quite intentionally. It started when Dad put him to bed without his pre-bedtime routine nursing session. Strange thing happened- no fuss and HE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT! Now those of you with good memories will remember a post earlier this year where I waxed nostalgic for the early days of frequent night nursings as they were constant reminders of the baby's well being. Those reminders became less and less endearing as he approached his first year. So back to the weaning. We gave up the evening nursing and he did start sleeping better at night, just not consistently. He did however become less interested in nursing during the day so we slowly phased out the other three daily sessions and four weeks later, completely weaned. We did have a few rough days, especially while the whole family shared a nasty respiratory virus, but all in all the nursing relationship ended for us the same way it started- lovingly, instinctually and with ease. And he's slept through the night ever since.

For me this is symbolic of my own growth as well. During the most difficult times over the past year, breastfeeding was my crutch. Not necessarily to calm the baby down, but to reassure me that I was doing something right when everything else around me seemed so out of control. As we both became more comfortable in our daily routine, that reassurance was less important, but I must admit that there is a void of sorts now in that same routine. I almost feel an uncertainty in regards to my physical significance after spending the better part of two years providing nourishment for another human being. It doesn't help that my body hasn't fully accepted the transition even though it has been almost three weeks.

Liam and I continue to bond through many other delightful interactions and he has replaced the comfort of nursing with his blankie. I feel very proud of the first 13 months we spend together and will treasure the moments of tranquility that breastfeeding provided for us.