All For A Good Cause (and other ramblings)

I keep meaning to post that I weaned Winston. It's been four weeks ago now. Man, I've been distracted. I didn't know when I was going to wean him, I didn't have a plan, but the Thursday after he turned one, he woke up really happy. He usually woke up crying and wanting to nurse pronto. Since he woke up happy, I decided to try just feeding him some oatmeal. He ate it fine, and I just gave him a sippy cup of milk after eating. I was only down to feeding him two times a day, morning and night, so that night I was contemplating whether I should feed him or not. I decided to just see how he took his sippy of milk. He took it fine and has been on a sippy since. He's never acted like he's missed nursing. 

I was ready to give it up. I nursed him longer then any of my other boys. With Malcolm I lost my milk supply when he was seven months. I was working full time, night shift, and pumping. I'm not surprised I lost it. I was very sad about it though. It was my only time to bond with him when I was at home. When Quinn was eleven months, he just started weaning himself. He started only nursing for like two seconds, then wanted down to play. I just decided to go with it and put him right on a sippy cup and milk. I was ready to have my body back. He did fine, until he did his random wake in the middle of the night and wanted to nurse.  

I've enjoyed this time with each of my kids, but I'm not in love with it. I don't get overly attached to it and have no desire to nurse past twelve months. (I have other reasons for wanting to go past twelve months, but I won't go into that.)  By that time, I'm ready to have my hormones back in order, be my own person and to be able to leave the house all by myself. 

The real reason why I was so ready to be done with Winston, I was wanting to make some money giving plasma again. I did it for a whole six weeks prior to moving home for the summer and finding out I was pregnant with Winston. It's been nearly two years since then. The money I made then, I used to make our car payment and go out to eat a few times. A luxury we don't get to do very often being so poor.

This time though, I'm doing it all for a good cause. Not for the people that will benefit from the use of my plasma. Not to help my family pay bills, or do fun things. I'm doing it because I have needs. Okay, maybe their not needs, but wants. You see I have many wants relating to camera equipment, things that I can't just ask for as a gift. We're too poor to use the money that Matt makes. We're also too poor to use our tax return. We need to have a little bit of a savings in case there's a need. So I'm resorting to giving plasma and stashing the money away for many, many months so that I can buy things that make me giddy. (Just know that I'm not selfish though. If there came a time that we couldn't get by without my stash of money, I would put it to good use, and try not to feel too disappointed. Okay, maybe a little.) 

The truth be told. I don't like giving plasma. I use to have a fear of needles, prior to being pregnant and giving birth. I was planning on a natural birth with Malcolm I was so scared of the epidural, until I started feeling the intense back labor, then I was all ready for the big long needle they use, which I've never seen in my life and never plan on seeing. I like the affects that long needle produces. Since then I have been poked enough that I'm not scared anymore, but it does make me anxious. Every time I go in I'm tense. Every time I go in they poke my finger to make sure my blood looks good, and that hurts more then the needle to give plasma. I hate that finger poke. Then when I sit in the little plasma chair, I just feel fidgety. I don't ever look when they poke the needle into my arm, I've never even seen the needle prior to it being in my arm. Then throughout the whole donation, I'm checking the clock, wondering how much longer. Luckily my donation is pretty fast, give or take a half an hour. I also only give out of my right arm. Which makes for a nasty scar. The one and only time I gave out of my left arm, it took me 45 minutes or so, and I just haven't been willing to give it another shot. It makes me too anxious to sit that long with a needle in my arm. 

Despite all that though, I'm committed. I wake up twice a week at 6 am so that I can get there right when they open at 7 am. I have to get there nice and early so that I can be back before Matt leaves for work. Them I'm out of there by 8:30 am or a little later. It's so worth it, my little stash is growing. All for a good cause.