Yesterday I called the genius doctor back to complain that my ankle is still torturing me. A few friends have suggested I get a second opinion, but frankly, I don't really have the money or the time to go see another doctor. It was already a considerable whip to see the doctor the first time.
After waiting all day for the doctor's office to call me back (typical), the nurse calls me back and asks, "Are you still nursing?"
And here is the moment of truth.
Gabriel is down to nursing once a day at night. It's not for very long, nor is it really of any nutritional value to him. But, selfishly, I'm not ready/not wanting our sweet little sessions to end. I know that once they do, the ability to rock Gabriel to sleep, to have him be still and calm while I sing lullabies to him will come to an end. It would also be the end of a chapter of Gabriel's story of growing up.
I am in a vast amount of pain. I am on the verge of amputating my foot. These drugs would give me some relief, and allow me to get back to the gym.
So.... do I hold on a few more weeks for those sweet little moments? The ones that I'll NEVER get back? Or, as I thought I was doing last night, nurse him ONE LAST TIME and then get some relief?
My answer to the nurse was....
I am done nursing.
A little white lie so I could have the medication on hand when I did stop nursing. But when will that be?
Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.
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