Crying over Milk...

     "Watch out for the crack!"  was the battle cry we heard each night at dinner as one of my brothers or I inevitably spilled our milk cup.  Classic tupperware cups in orange and gold rolling towards the edge of the table.  But that was the easy part, quickly wiped up after hitting the floor.  It was the dreaded crack that was home to lost crumbs and "gunk" where the milk would.... ?? Well I'm not sure exactly.  Curdle? Require the disassembly of the kitchen table?
     At any rate, moms for decades have indeed been crying over spilled milk. Whether we "should" cry about it or not is debatable.  My heart especially rockets out to the moms, including myself who have chosen to attempt to breastfeed yet found that our bodies were unable to produce luxurious quantities of milk.  Yes, we guzzled the tea.  Yes, we ate the cookies (thanks Monica!).  Choked down supplements along with the chunky vitamins.   Yes we shed a silent tear when other moms posted their "problems" on Facebook regarding what to do with their freezers full of excess milk.
    Today is a day on my breastfeeding journey.  I wanted to say the "bittersweet final day of"... but I can't.  Today I rediscovered my last 2 bags of breast milk.  Last, last; as in we are not planning to have other children.  As in, my current 2 year old laughs if I try to offer him breast milk.  With each child a different journey of nursing for various lengths of time for various reasons.
     Those 2 "measly" bags peeping out from behind the unused frozen bananas (someone will be over soon to make us smoothies and banana bread) and below the food coloring-rich freezie pops.
     I can't yet let them thaw in the sink and slip down the drain.  I worked so hard to extract each drop of milk.  I was hooked up to a fancy 1st world pumping machine where I pumped in my car between work shifts.  Each day I squeezed out just 1/4 ounce to one ounce of milk at a time.  I remember carefully shaking each drop into the bottle, letting it regather and shaking again for one last drop. I certainly did cry over spilled milk more than once.  Precious for the hopes, determination and even fears carried within.
     So I will tuck those 2 tiny bags back into the freezer, not even close to 1/4 full.  Hey, it's one of the few times I can choose to not spill the milk.