But now

We had our first bad storm today since my son was born. I've never been scared of storms since they're a normal part of living in the South. But today, I shook. That sounds weird, but it's true. I was shaking. I've never been shook up because of a storm warning, but as I strapped my baby into his car seat to take him out back to the shelter, I was shaking.

When I got into the storm shelter, I was still shaking. I left him strapped in until he started to fuss and then I took him out. For the first time in eight years, I wasn't worried about my dog and I wasn't worried about myself. I was worried about my son.

Everyone tells you having a child changes your life. You knew that when you got pregnant, didn't you? You knew that you wouldn't be able to just up and go whenever you wanted. You knew those days of staying at the bar until 2 a.m. were over. You knew that what you wanted didn't matter (more on this). You knew that you were going to have more bills or at least more financial strain.

You knew all of these things.

But you didn't know these.

You didn't know that you were (eventually in my case) going to love this person more than you've ever loved anyone in your life. You didn't know that things that normally terrify you suddenly don't anymore because you have to be tough for your child. You didn't know that things that never scared you in the past horrify you because anything could happen at any time, and it your baby could be in the crossfire. You didn't realize the true meaning of, "I would take a bullet for you" until you looked into your baby's eyes.

I could keep going.

This is hard. So hard. It's hard how you can love a person so much that it physically hurts you to think about harm coming his/her way.

I had dreams one time. I wanted to be a journalist. I wanted to write for Rolling Stone. I wanted to have a career. I wanted to graduate college.

But now...now, I just want to see my baby smile when he wakes up. Now, I want to hold and kiss and cuddle my person as much as I can. Now, I want to look into his eyes as I nurse him. Now, I want him to sit up on his own.

I still want the things I did before I had a baby, kind of. I still want to graduate. I still want to be a journalist. But now, I want to write for a different audience. I want to write for mothers. Now, if I have a career, that's great, but if it takes a little longer than anticipated, that's OK.

When I got pregnant, I wanted to breastfeed for a year.

Then when I had my son and realized that it can be quite stressful, I decided I was only going to do it six months.

As colic hit, I decided I was only going to do it until my milk dried up.

But now.

Now, I want to nurse as long as he will let me. I love that time with him. I love when he looks into my eyes and smiles. I love when he takes his hand and rubs mine. I love going to sleep with him snuggled up next to me (because the crib thing only works part-time).

But now.

It seems like that's how all of my thoughts start these days. Having a baby changes you, we know that. But we didn't know just HOW MUCH.

But now, we do.

Breastfeeding is hard. Breastfeeding can be stressful. Breastfeeding is easy to give up on.

But don't.

Because next week or next month, or in the next three months, you'll be so happy you stuck with it. You'll love that sweet look your baby gives you. You'll love those little fingers rubbing across your hand. You'll love that money you're saving (had to throw it in there). You'll love that sweet look that your baby gives you. You'll love that your baby KNOWS YOU. You'll think back on these difficult times, and then you'll think,

but now.