I am happy (and sad) that at sixteen and a half months, Logan has decided to stop nursing. It is one of those moments I’m sure I will have over and over – excited that my little boy is growing up and moving on, yet longing for those days when he was smaller and needed me more.
I never doubted that I would breast feed my son. I just didn’t know that I would continue for as long as I did. It was extremely painful the first few weeks, when neither he nor I really knew what we were doing. But I had a lot of support, and I knew that I had to push on and it would get better. I remember thinking in those early weeks that if I just made it to six months, I would be happy with that. Then it became 9 months, then a year, and then I just decided to let him wean himself.
I remember when the milk came in for the first time, it was quite a shock. I was so full of milk, I think my boobs were square. At least that was my perception of it at the time. Oh, and the leaking. It was just squirting out all the time, like one of those spray/splash parks. My boobs didn’t know if there was a baby there or not, so it was supplying milk just in case. I didn’t know that they made ‘boob pads’, so I was shoving towels down my shirt. I actually went out in public like that, because I didn’t know what else to do. It was at least 2 or 3 weeks before my sister in law gave me the Lansinoh nursing Pads which changed my life.
And LoMo was hungry. I called him the ravenous beast. He would eat and then an hour or an hour and a half later, he would be crying again and I had to feed him. I remember I wanted to cry too. I felt like I was being chomped on and I couldn’t get anything done because I was feeding him all day.
At the two or three month mark, we hit our groove. It became easier. And it started to become relaxing. I would plop down on the couch, and enjoy the quiet while he ate until he fell asleep. This was our routine for a long time.
Breast feeding has been a time of cuddling, bonding, closeness, & trust. I am proud that I was able to give sustenance to my child in his most fragile time. That he was able to grow up healthy and strong and I was able to give him that gift. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the crying, whining, sickness, teething, and waking up at night if I didn’t have ‘the boob’ to help me through.
Over this past week, there have been a few times when LoMo came over to me and said ‘boob’ (yes, he knows that word because I say it all the time). He points to the pillow because he knows that’s where his head goes when he eats. Even though there is no milk, I have let him ‘eat’ because it’s still a time for cuddling and closeness. And I know that soon enough, he won’t want to do this anymore. And I will be happy. And it will break my heart.
I’ll end this post with a breast feeding photo from when LoMo was 3 months old, on a plane, going to Costa Rica. He was excellent on that trip. And partial thanks goes to bOOb.