I'll be the first to say, breastfeeding is not easy. I realize that's not true for all mamas, but it was for me. In the early months, it was sometimes more painful than even my most excruciating (unmedicated) contractions. It was probably the one new-mama thing that made me most tired, took the most amount of work and had the longest learning curve. All that being said, I kind of miss it now that it's over.
I nursed the kiddo for 16 months and six days. That's 491 days. Or 11,784 hours. Or 707,040 minutes. Or 42,422,400 seconds. Any way you look at it, it's no small feat. And I'm proud that I stuck with it and lasted so long!
Before he was born, I had vague notions of easily breastfeeding for a year. I had never read anything about nursing, nor did I take the breastfeeding class lots of new moms in my community raved about. Though I knew it wasn't necessarily easy for everyone, I thought we would just figure things out as we went along and all would unfold naturally.
Then came a bad latch, a tongue-tie that got clipped, colic and the accompanying elimination diets to make sure it wasn't caused by anything I was eating, and feverish bouts of plugged ducts and subclinical mastitis. You can look all that up if you want, but it all just amounted to an array of obstacles on the road of breastfeeding. And my trials in breastfeeding while training for a race added even more interesting hurdles. I wasn't prepared for many of the challenges, and I put more time, effort and money into successfully breastfeeding than I ever expected I would.
When the kiddo was a couple of months old, I was tired and in pain (sometimes the toe-curling type) and wasn't even sure I'd make it to the doctor-recommended minimum of six months of breastfeeding, let alone my own goal of one year. But things got a bit easier and six months came and went. Then it was suddenly eight months, then 12 months, then 13, and I was beginning to fear that weaning might be difficult (and that I would never get a good night of sleep again). After all, my kid inherited my stubbornness. But it happened. Gradually. Partly on his own and partly with our help, he nursed less and less. And in a final leap that included dropping down to one nap and completely night weaning, it was soon just one quick nursing before bed. Then, one night, that session was replaced with just a good-night hug and kiss. And that was that.
When I was first nursing and spending lots of time reading mama forums, I read many posts from moms on how much they missed breastfeeding once it was over. At that time, I didn't really understand how that might feel. It seemed like the baby was attached to a boob 24/7. But, of course, now, here I am, my boobs all back to myself, doing my own reminiscing. And feeling thankful. I know that not everyone who wants to breastfeed can always breastfeed.
I have many memories of nursing and pumping in random places, like in the back seat of a hot car after a half marathon, at the top of a mountain, and while walking in the parking garage of an airport car rental place (thanks to the Ergo and no thanks to National). There many times it was so frustrating that I wanted to give up. But there were also countless times when it was such a sweet and peaceful time to relax and chill out with my little guy. Nostalgia aside, I can say I'm thankful for every session, even the tough ones. It was a sustenance and comfort only I could provide, and some days, I remembered to be grateful for the opportunity.
My son and I have different quiet times now, while sitting and reading books together or during his bedtime story and song. He still comes to me for comfort, and I gladly provide him as many hugs and kisses as he needs. I cherish the bond we have, because I know that one day he won't need me as much. As a friend of mine once said, raising a child is all about a series of weanings. Each stage comes at its own time, and though you may feel sad about the end of one stage, it probably means you did a good job during the last one.
I hope so.
© 2011 GUF
