A silly kind of grief

My shrink (yes, I have a shrink; long story for another day) says that you grieve when you lose anything. He always likes to give the example of losing your keys. You lose your keys and say "Oh, they're around here somewhere" (denial). Then it's "Now, honey, I'm going to shave your eyebrows off when you're sleeping, because you moved my keys!" (anger). Then it's "Dear God if you help me find my keys I swear I'll drive my car right over to the shelter and do community service" (bargaining). Then "Sigh. I lost my keys. However will I get around? I just don't know what to do" (depression). And finally, "I lost my keys. Time to make a new set and move on" (acceptance).

The reason I say this is to defend my silliness about grieving finally dropping Zooey's dreamfeed. I am weaning her off this feeding this week. I moved it to 9:30 for a few nights and was ok. When I moved it to 9:15, I was still fine (read: Denial). But then I moved it to 9:00 and shortened the feeding. I started "bargaining" with all the reasons she still might need it: to help her sleep at night, to get one last snuggle in...she doesn't need these things. I can tell she's ready, and in fact, she's been ready for a few weeks now. She barely swallows, and sometimes it causes her to wake up and fuss when she could've just been asleep. I direct my anger at Ryan (or whoever) for not understanding my silliness of grief. And I feel the tears welling up (baby tears, I'm not a crazy person), so there's depression. I know I'll cry the last night I do it, which will be Sunday. I've said before that the dreamfeed used to be something I couldn't stand doing. I wanted to go to bed and sleep not stay up and get in one more feed in. I wanted Ryan to do it. :) It has, however, become my most special, precious time of day with Zooey. For me it is one last snuggle. It is walking in her room and seeing her fast asleep with her little arms spread above her head and her little chest rising and falling. It is breathing in her sweet baby smell as she nuzzles up against my neck when I pick her up. It is rocking her for a few minutes afterward and hearing her breathing and little sighs and calming down before I turn in for the night. It is holding her when she is calm and a baby - something she will only be for such a fleeting time in her life. She is just so innocent, so sweet, so dependent.

The dreamfeed has become that perfect moment in recent days where so much has been chaotic and scary. And as much as I love it, it is time to let it go. I think one of the reasons this is so hard is because it is one of the first of many things that I am going to come to love that I will have to let go of in order to do my job as a mother successfully: to raise Zooey to be a self-sufficient, independent adult who can go out into the world on her own. As I think about this, I cannot imagine it. It seems like it's someone else's child I'm thinking about. However, I know it's Zooey, and based at how fast time has flown by, I know the next 18 years will fly by too. I just wanted to sit down and reflect on this sweet thing lest I forget it (like I ever would!).

So, you can call me silly if you want; that's ok. :) I'm sure moms all over have "grieved" silly little things as their little ones grow.