I haven't written much about Jack for lots of reasons. The main one being that I prefer to spend my time enjoying him instead of taking pictures and typing. The other being that after two months I still haven't figured out how to put what I am feeling into words. He is amazing and I am enjoying him in a way that I never knew I could. What's more is that his addition to the family has given me a different kind of love for Dean. I thought I was already loving him with all of the love I could muster, but apparently that just grows.
Jack's 9 weeks old now. When Dean was 9 weeks old, he finally learned how to nurse. I struggled for every ounce of milk and was never able to give him a full feeding without formula to help us along. With Jack eating easily I don't have that problem, but my thoughts are rooted deeply in the past. This morning I threw away 14 bottles of breastmilk (I have over 20 left the freezer) and I am still having difficulty leaving them in there. It is after 3. Logically, I know that I pump an extra bottle a day at work and freeze it. That's over 20 bottles a month. Jack is not going to starve and I'm prefectly fine with giving him formula if it came to that anyway. But...that milk in those little bags is like gold. The gold of which my precious Dean never seemed to get enough.