The Breast Milk Stain

 Today as I was cleaning up the house, I can across something that I have walked past, cleaned around, or glanced at many times but never cleaned.

The breast milk stain on the corner of our bed frame.

When Collins was about a week (maybe less?) old, we were in the trenches of the newborn stage. 

We had placed her bassinet up against our wall of our bedroom. It was further from where we slept because she was still on oxygen and a monitor and we didn't have enough outlets in our room to put her by us. We had a hard foldable chair at the base of the bed for me to nurse her or feed her. Looking back, I laugh at this setup because we could've made this situation a little more comfortable for the both of us. But back to the story.

Collins had been up an average amount of times this night, nothing out of the ordinary. I woke up to nurse her probably around 2 or 3 AM.  When I would nurse her, I would switch my Haakaa (milk collector) back and forth. When she was finished, I set the Haaka on the bed frame to put her down and would come back to it.If any of you know me, I am nuts about my breast milk. I really worked hard in the beginning to get a good supply and was pretty relentless with pumping and saving EVERYTHING. 

I stood up to put Collins back in the bassinet and noticed that her oxygen was falling out of her nose. I sat back down to fix it and my blanket knocked over my Haakaa. Collins began to scream because the oxygen was pulling on her little face bandaids and milk was spilling down the bed frame and on the sheets.

I would consider myself a very patient person. I hate to toot my own horn, but being a kindergarten teacher gives you an ungodly amount of patience you never knew you had. But in this moment I lost it.

I called Weston's name, and he grunted and started waking up. I continued to sob. I probably only spilled maybe 2-3 ounces, but that was so much to me at the time. (Funny cause I pump about 10 now in one sitting) 

Weston put the baby down and I did as much cleaning as I could with energy level I had as I continued to cry. The last thing I remember saying to Weston was,"I wish things were normal again".

When I see this breast milk stain, I think of this phrase.

Today I couldn't help but wonder, "Well what is my normal?"

Was in when I was insanely active in college and had super fun jobs, and little responsibility? Was it Weston and I's days house sitting when we were so infatuated with one another? It had to be when Weston and I were married with a much shorter list of things to worry about?

Was there ever a 'normal' for me?

The truth is.....there wasn't....and probably never will be.

When I was insanely active in college, I was fighting night terrors and trust issues with every relationship I had, along with struggling in many classes. 

When Weston and I house sat, Weston and I ran back and forth to his house to let the dog out because his dad refused to support what we did. We didn't have a whole lot of money and we saved all our house sitting money in an envelope so we could afford furniture when we moved out.

When Weston and I were married with a short list of things to worry about, we actually were worried that we would never be able to have a baby.

Maybe we never have a normal, but new 'normals' that cause us to change and adapt all the time.

If things always went back to the same normal we wouldn't get anywhere. There would be no creativeness or dfficulty to life.

I have accepted to love every 'normal' because let's be honest, no 'normal' is better than another. Each has it's own perks and downfalls.

and no, I didn't clean the stain.....it's not that big I promise.... I needed the reminder a few more times!