Breastfeeding- the word in our culture brings forth strong emotions. As well it should, nourishing an infant is a BIG deal as it sets them up in life, with any luck, for good health (emotional, physical, mental, etc).
When I was a teenager I read a fictitious novel wherein a woman gives birth and nurses her baby for the first time- and it was glorious, relaxing, amazing- and obviously written by a man. As a single young woman I thought of all the benefits for the baby as well as the mom, getting to eat more, burn calories while sitting doing nothing, and HUGE health benefits (breast cancer less likely, etc) as well as bonding that would of course happen with anything that gets it's life source from you. I got all my friends boppy pillows and beautiful nursing covers for baby showers and was truly excited for my friends when they found non-hideous nursing bra.
After getting pregnant I attended a courses and I talked with friends who weren't afraid of the "weird questions" and was lucky enough to receive encouragement from all of them- those who successfully breastfed and those who weren't able to for whatever reason. This was a huge help as I decided, much like my birth plan, that it was something I couldn't set my heart on but rather do my absolute best and let what needed to happen happen for Gabriel's safety.
After he was born, Gabriel didn't want to breastfeed as much as he wanted to explore the world around him content and alert. When he did latch on, he nursed for 15 minutes and then fell asleep- and apparently that's all he needed for a while. No matter what we did, he wouldn't stay awake when he did latch on. When my milk came in I was one of the "lucky" ones who overproduced and waiting to pump for two weeks was not an option (better than under producing but comes with it's own challenges). It ended up working out beautifully for Gabriel. He would eat a little at the breast and then daddy would take over with a bottle when he couldn't resist falling asleep overwhelmed by the familiar warmth, sounds and smell of mommy.
I was always grateful, but couldn't say I enjoyed breastfeeding. It was weird feeling, became painful with poor latches, and draining not just in the literal sense- there was no just sitting there, it felt like a marathon when coupled with lack of sleep. I started setting small goals for myself just to reach that safety zone of six months. But then something wonderful happened, three months in Gabriel figured out the correct latch- it didn't hurt and I realized I was actually enjoying nursing him! That he looked into my eyes and smiled his beautiful gummy smile at me while continuing to eat and my heart burst with joy and thanksgiving.
As we approached Gabriel's first birthday, we talked again and our mindset had changed from doing what we had to to wanting to continue. Gabriel had his first cold when he was a year old and had decided to drop several feedings for more solid food. That just confirmed in our minds that we should keep going for his immune system. After getting a positive result on a pregnancy test when Gabriel was 15 months old and still breastfeeding several times a day, we researched and decided to stick with it as long as it didn't effect the pregnancy in a negative way. Gabriel again self-weaned to only before naps and bedtime feedings by July, and then to only before bed in August. I knew it was going to be soon that he decided he was done, and honestly my body was just ready to be done as well. Hard to describe, it just was done. Emotionally I wanted to continue, but physically after going through three months of morning sickness and chasing a toddler, my body wanted a break.
Early Sept. is when it happened. Oddly enough, Gabriel and I both had colds and he didn't ask as his custom was. I put him to bed thinking he would be up for a nighttime feeding (being sick and all). I woke up in the morning and he had slept through the night. When I walked into his room I wondered if he would be freaked out or fine- I walked in and he smiled at me so big- he was just fine. He hasn't asked again since, but has been perfectly healthy and confident. It's been easier for me than I thought it would be as well. Bedtime doesn't take 45 minutes anymore, it's about 15 and I get that extra half hour to hang out with my hubby. This time is especially meaningful to me as we will be welcoming our second son, Tristan, into the world in just a few short months and will have to figure out a new bedtime routine that will take both of our efforts and joyfully consume our time.
Breastfeeding is one of the most challenging, rewarding and overall satisfying things I have ever done or worked at. The breastmilk chunky baby is by far one of the cutest things that graces this planet, and the bonding and confidence that I watched it impart of my little guy is invaluable. Once we hit that three month mark, it became something that helped me stay sane in the middle of my crazy 16 wedding schedule that season, grounded me when I felt like I was being torn in too many directions, something I looked forward to because I could only focus on him while nursing. It's how he stayed so healthy for so long, helped me shed the baby weight much faster than I thought (although when Gabriel started weaning, my weight did fluctuate a little as he would or wouldn't randomly use the calories himself at different points), helped Gabriel and I bond as mother and son, gave him a solid confidence and way to ground himself if things got overwhelming, it's how I learned to put him first, learned a lot of character lessons, realized I was pregnant again, and how I have started learning the letting go process that comes with being a mother.
It saddens me to think of the stress, judgement and pressure that comes with breastfeeding in our culture. In other cultures it's worse, in some it's an honor- in this one it doesn't matter what you choose, someone is willing to get in your face about it. That's what comes with being a multi-cultural country. It's not easy for most, not even possible for some, it's undesired by others, and the only way for a good amount of women. I am one of the lucky few who had solid support from my husband, family and friends while breastfeeding- although I did receive several strange looks if I mentioned I was going to feed my little guy after he turned a year, no one actually said anything. Several told me after being around Gabriel and getting used to the fact that I did feed him still it made them realize that it was okay, there wasn't an unhealthy overly emotionally attached mommy thing going on, and I hope that it won them over enough to prevent them from giving the look to another mother in the future.
Wouldn't life be easier if we women would stop the judgement, realize that there is an ideal but it doesn't always work out (whether by free will choice or inability), and instead work on encouraging and being a blessing in each other's lives? Let's tell the culture by our lives that it doesn't matter what the media says, we choose to live in joy and encouragement instead of defensive judgement and change the world around us by "paying it forward" to just the handful of women and men (yes, it's important to encourage them as well- husbands are the first, strongest and most important support and protection for the breastfeeding mother and child) around us.
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