End of a Breastfeeding Era

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I know, you’re probably thinking that based on my sporadic posting that I’m going to tell you I’ve decided to stop blogging. Sorry, you’re not off the hook that easily, I have to have someone to share my awesomeness gibberish with. Today marks one week of not breastfeeding. I left last Thursday for Chicago and then Georgia and was gone almost 5 days during which there was no frozen milk supply or any alternate to whole milk. Granted she’s 19 months old, so it’s not really a problem except she loves to nurse. Apparently not enough lately though, because unlike in January where I couldn’t make it without pumping while we were in Vegas, I had absolutely no problem in Savannah. Simply because there was no milk.

How do you explain this to a 19 month old who clings to you and yells “eat eat eat”?  I thought each day would get better, but it seems each day is a little worse. It tears at your heart, I want to give in to the fact that I know she just appreciates the sheer comfort of it, but at the same time I know I’m just postponing the inevitable. So I redirect, offer attractive snacks at times and in amounts never before heard of, how about marshmallows, disgusting chemical filth I would probably not normally give you, sure you can have fistfuls, how about a sucker or cookie or here just lick the sugar from the bag. Anything to make you happy, since this is breaking my heart just a little bit. It’s made worse by knowing she’s probably going to be the baby forever and you want everything to last forever with the baby, really you just want to stop time and keep them little forever.

Except we can’t. From the minute they are born they are growing away from us, first they roll away, crawl away, walk away, eventually they make new friends and want to play with them, next they are off at school and we become less and less important until finally the day comes when they go out into the world on their own, away from us. Yet no matter where they go, there is a part of them that are always secure in our hearts and it aches a little as if a piece of us is missing, each time they grow away.

Now after all of the complaining about the challenges of nursing a breastfeeding toddler, I should celebrate. I mean really let’s review, I can drink more than an occasional glass of wine, take allergy medicine again, and I’ll never have to pull out that dreaded breast pump again. I should be pouring margaritas and toasting to the end of this era. Yet instead, I just feel sad.

 

The Angry Face

Who wouldn’t want to give that face, whatever she desires!

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