Everyone knows the saying “Don’t cry over spilt milk”. Nursing mothers can tell you “Whoever said
don’t cry over spilt milk never pumped for 30 minutes only to get 2 oz’s”
Yesterday I discovered a whole new meaning to that phrase. Except it wasn’t spilt milk.
Yesterday afternoon as I numbingly searched my refrigerator for something to satisfy a hunger I truly didn’t have, I noticed
the three containers that were storing my breast milk sitting on the top shelf. Milk that had been pumped at the Children’s Hospital
with the purpose of it all being consumed by my sweet new baby boy, Brecken. For the last week
I never really noticed them sitting there and if I did, I causally ignored them. Just like I’ve been
causally ignoring all the rest of his things laying about in the house. His elephant onesie he came home in still
sits next to the couch on the floor, stained with his urine because mommy couldn’t change his diaper fast
enough. I haven’t had the heart to wash it yet.
After staring at the filled containers for a few moments, I decided it was time to dump them down the sink.
One by one I poured them down and as I finished each one, the realization of what I was doing and why I was doing it
began to sink in. After the third was gone the tears began to fall uncontrollably. Our house was
consumed by the sounds of my cries. Torry must of heard me and made his way downstairs to console me.
He asked what was wrong, even though we both know what’s wrong when one of us is crying. After
I collected myself I told him I had dumped Brecken’s milk. It just tore at my heart to know that my efforts
put into providing him the best food he could have was being wasted. It
felt as if I was dumping a part of Brecken down the sink. That milk signified him. A part of me
wished I could take it back, take all that milk back and put it back in the fridge. Put that part
of Brecken’s life back into my heart.
I know that dumping his milk does not mean I’m dumping him out of my life. That’s impossible.
I know that, but it’s also hard to convince myself it’s the truth. I know it was only
milk, but I still cried over it.