Yesterday, as I was nursing Gregory, I’m pretty sure my shoulder popped out of its socket.
See, the kid DOES NOT STAY STILL. I told people he moved constantly while in utero– no one really believed me until he was born and they saw.
Case in point, even when Gregory nurses, he is moving (unless it’s for his 4am feeding…but sometimes…even then). Last week, he was flailing so wildly with his legs, he was actually able to reach up and kick me in the face. His hands/claws are pawing at me the entire time, leaving red irritated scratches all over my neck. Trying to nurse him, I’ve said, is like trying to hold onto a rocket lifting off for the moon.
Believe it or not, that’s actually how it happened. I was using both hands to wrestle Gregory back into position (it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to eat…he actually gets very mad and impatient if I unlatch him and try to calm him down before continuing), and all of a sudden, I felt a pop and a shooting pain down my right arm.
Bad news, right? We have a stick shift. I was supposed to meet Jesse up in Lewisville so we could go apartment shopping. I was able to drive, only by hunching forward, keeping my arm pinned to my side, and using my wrist to move my hand.
All night, I could barely do anything with it. This morning, same story. If I lift Gregory, I have to do it very carefully. When I nurse Gregory lying down, I am always on my left side, using my right arm to keep him in position. He won’t do it any other way– believe me, I’ve tried.
But I guess it’s fitting that I spend my first Mother’s Day impaired and without the use of my right arm. Kind of poetic, actually. Until the day that I die, my life will be a constant sacrifice of body and soul for this kid. I will never not be his mother, and he will never need me to stop sacrificing for him.
It’s a good reminder, just as childbirth is. Our bodies are not our own, any longer, ever again. Something similar happens during marriage, but this feels a little different, seeing as my body has been keeping him alive for the past 16 months, first by his umbilical cord, now by breastfeeding. Emotionally, he depends on my smiles and hugs to feel secure enough to then interact with the world. What I do now is shaping his view of the world, forever!
With that kind of immense responsibility in the job description, it’s no wonder that there are hazards!
But seriously, can I have my arm back now?