Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.
-Robert Browning
I breastfed my children. It is a feeling… no… its an experience unlike anything else. Euphoric might be pushing it a bit too far, but its something like that. It’s euphoric-ish. I mean, you know, after your nipples stop bleeding and you no longer wince each time they latch on to your flesh with the strength of ten thousand commercial vacuum cleaners. Side note: How do they come here that strong anyway? Their tiny limbs are little more than al dente pasta, but their mouths? Strong like morning breath.
Anyway, I was saying... Breastfeeding your little one is euphoric-ish. Time and time again I’ve said I wish everyone could experience it. Not just women, but men too. If I could I would put it in a bottle and give it away. The feeling that I am the provider of life for this living creature and we both know it. It’s a very fluid, symbiotic relationship. The giving and the taking, but it has nothing to do with power and control. It’s just about love. Pure love. So, what then? What are we talking about today?
I’m still nursing Baby Blake. Yes it’s probably not exactly accurate to continue to put baby in front of his name, but I did it and you will deal. In the same way that everyone needs to deal with the fact that I’m still nursing him. The looks I get when he starts to tug at my shirt or tries to settle down into my lap, assuming the position. So what he’s 2, has a full mouth of teeth and makes poop that rivals that of a grown up. He’s my baby. He still wants “Milky”. I’m still giving it to him. Boom. Just like that.
I’m gonna be honest though, cuz that’s what we do around here. I’d like to say that I have continued to nurse him because of the health benefits. I’d like to say I’ve continued to nurse him because of the deep, emotional and maternal connection I feel when I nurse him. And I do still feel a joy that I cannot explain when I feed him. But mostly; I’m freaking tired. Dead ass tired. He nurses during the night. Yes, we co-sleep #JudgeYourOwnSelf. He gets up and down from my lap to nurse. He lifts my shirt and nurses with his feet on the floor. Yes, you read that correctly. This lil man can get milky from a standing position. Hey! Stop focusing on the fact that he can reach my boobs from the floor. I am sitting when this happens! Plus, he’s a tall kid and this is the third whirl for these two. *shrug* Breastfeeding mommas and the daddies who love them know what I’m talking about.
Moving along... So I’m tired. Check. He’s eating food. Check. I’m ready to stop. Check. So why am I still nursing him? I’m still nursing him because I don’t want to fight him. And listen, fighting a 2 year old IS a real thing. Those people who say, “You’re the adult. You’re in control.”, have never spent more than three minutes with any tiny human under three years old. The will of these little people. My goodness! That’s what we should really be talking about… How to maintain the will of a toddler through adulthood… That right there deserves a real study in human behavior. I’m so serious. We’ll revisit that another time. As I said, I just don’t want to fight him. I don’t want him to be sad or confused. More truthfully, as he grows into his independence… Maybe there's a part of me that is holding on to this thing… this nurturing that only I can give him.
Dah well.. I’ll use the next couple of weeks to figure that out. In the meantime, hug those infants… and all of your children a little closer. Like Darius Rucker said, it won’t be like this for long. Enjoy all the moments.
I’m not here because I’m an expert. I’m here because I have experiences -Stephanie