This is for me. And only me. Hank won't ever really care about this part of his life. I don't know, maybe he will. Maybe he will thank me for decreasing both of our risks for disease and cancer and will be so healthy and grateful? If he never cares, never says thank you? Well, it doesn't change a thing for me.
I have always known I wanted to breastfeed. I loved dolls, babies, playing house. I started babysitting around the age of 5 when I lived in Greenville, SC. Mind you, the parents would be outside doing yard work but it felt like a legit babysitting job to me and I took it VERY seriously. I guess I'm trying to say that even when I was younger and didn't know what a GMO was, didn't fear the bad things that come from all the plastic use in our lives, and wasn't a recycling Nazi, I still knew I wanted what was natural for me and my babies.
Fast forward >>>> I am now 27 years old and nursing my almost 16 month old baby. He has a mouth full of teeth including all four canines that finally broke the skin. He will try to repeat most words I say to him. He is beginning to realize that life exists outside of his little world, enjoying playing with other kids his age and following big kids around with a look in his eyes that says he's longing to be big. WAIT! Not so fast my little nursling. There is plenty of time to be big. I always knew I wanted to breastfeed... but for how long? Well the first year of course. After that? I have no idea. It's a crazy thing when you see other one year old babies and they are so "big" and "grown". Then you have your own 1 year old and you realize that while they have grown so much over the past year they are still so little. Hank didn't start eating food until he was 10 months old. The thought of him not needing the very milk that alone (as far as nutrition goes) helped him grow and meet milestones up until 2 months before his first birthday was wild to me! Even at 10 months he was relying on "muk" for most of his caloric and nutritional intake while having a ball trying new solids. So on we nursed.
I am way more educated and informed than I was when we were starting out on this breastfeeding journey in September of 2013. Now I know that the WHO recommends breastfeeding for the first 2 years of life. Two years is the new goal. We might make it, we might not. A lot of emphasis is placed on the benefits of breastfeeding for babies. What about mamas? Breastfeeding has been such a gift for me. I am choking up as I type and reread the last sentence. All of that oxytocin. All of that love and satisfaction that is so present when we gaze into one another's eyes while we relax, reconnect, or drift off to sleep.
I'm deep in the breastfeeding community around here and usually stay up on "breastfeeding in the news". You don't always hear the positive stories. A lot of times it is about the lack of support from family, friends, or the public. Well, my dad's mom is the only woman in my family in her generation and the generation after her that breastfed. My mom tried with no success and we now believe that we probably all had tongue and or lip ties that hindered her. My maw maw and my mom have always been very supportive. My sister and cousin also breastfed. I don't ever hear, "When are you gonna stop that?" or, "Don't you think he's too old?". Nope, just love, encouragement and support. I haven't ever had a negative experience while nursing in public (NIP). There are some women in my life who made comments that were not supportive but I wouldn't take their advice on how to tie my shoe so I honestly haven't ever dwelt on them. My husband hasn't ever made a comment suggesting we should end that aspect of our relationship. I am very blessed. I am very thankful. I hope to encourage mamas from now until the day I die. I want them to feel empowered and strong. I want them to bond with their babies and beat all odds.
One day a couple of weeks ago Hank asked for "muk" while signing for it at the same time (as he always does). So I sat down on the couch and he so excitedly climbed in my lap. I turned on some TV and was relaxing while that precious baby was relaxing in his happy place. All is calm and some upbeat music comes from the TV and my 15 month old looks up at me while latched on and starts dancing and grooving in my lap. A moment like that is worth more than I could ever afford to pay.
Last week Hank got a stomach bug. It was pitiful. He did have it made though. He stayed in my arms all day and puked and slept. Pretty much picture perfect sick day if you have to be sick. He was so uninterested in food and drink. Rightly so. He did ask me for some milk though. I agreed and started unsnapping my bra and the grin and chuckle he let out made me grin. I offered and he all of a sudden said, "No, Mama." I know how he felt right then. So sick and so not in the mood to do anything but knowing you have to do something, eat something, in order to climb out of the funk. He changed his mind and nursed and I was reminded again for possibly the 3,000th time of why we still nurse. You never know when that virus might be lurking around the corner. Thankfully I had all he needed to keep him hydrated and get him back to health. Thank you Lord for your great design and plan. Hank went on to share the virus with me and his dad. I'll just go ahead and say that Hank had the mildest case and I was tempted to use my milk to get us back to health too.
Cheers to liquid gold and all those who benefit from it, young and old. Cancer patients, babies, preemies, and toddlers. Our cats, my zits, my cuts, and burns. Our eye infections, ear infections, and stuffy noses. Liquid gold, liquid love, liquid magic truth be told.
No comments:
Post a Comment