Birthdays

We took Mr. Man to a friend's birthday party last night. It seemed odd to us, but of 9 ~5yo guests, only 2 parents opted to stay at the party - the rest dropped their son off and left. Thank goodness we stayed because the moms of the birthday boy had 10 boys at the party. They had organized a hunt for secret treasure around their extensive wooded backyard. It was quite fun, but you can imagine the excitement and activity with ten boys running around!

The moms also have a 6mo infant, who my wife and I got to care for while moms were busy with 10 boys and birthday party duties. I had the opportunity to give her a bottle of mama's freshly pumped milk. I was blown away by the memories of nursing an infant. I immediately tuned into the comforting suck-breathe rhthym as I nestled her in the crook of my arm. Her little hand wrapped around my finger and she stared up into my eyes - all things Mr. Man used to do. As she drank the milk, her eyes got heavy and she gently drifted off to sleep with that contented expression of someone fully satisfied. It was a great moment.

A beautiful moment difficult to reconcile in my mid-fertility crisis. I remember the double-edged sword of nursing - beautiful, peaceful moments intermingled with resentment over having no personal space. Mr. Man nursed until he was almost 4! Up until six months ago I could still express droplets of milk. My body is relieved to be free of nursing, yet last night holding that baby I was ready to do it all again.