From the get go I wanted to be able to post regular updates on my nursing journey as an encouragement to other mommas who were just starting out. Honestly, it gets so much better!
Of course, I think I posted one or two updates on the blog that I have lost. And those were back in the beginning, when things were less than splendiforous.
Now I have a ten and a half month old baby. Blows my mind. Even more impressive to me is that fact that she has never had a drop of formula. I can't believe that I have been able to stick with it. And I wish that I were able to pin point some magical secret that has worked this time.
If I had to narrow it down to one thing I had this go round that I didn't feel like I had the previous two babies, it would be support. It's not that my family or friends didn't "support" me during the first two babies. They did. I mean, they were the sort of blind support that every momma needs, they supported me whichever choice I made. But this go round I had much more extended support. My doctor's office had a lot of breastfeeding education and a lactation consultant. I was encouraged much more to breastfeed and was even given the information before I had the baby on how to get a pump before I went back to work. And of course I had the support of 12 weeks home with the baby. If I had that the first two times I might have been able to breastfeed them this long.
Occasionally, I feel a twinge of regret over the fact that I didn't nurse Evie and Elly. But I am not one of those people who likes to dedicate time and energy to the what-if's and should-have's. They're healthy. Seem to be fairly normal, functional kids. So all in all, I did alright. Right?
Being a mom of three, I had a lot more internal support as well. I knew that I would have to let a lot of things go when baby #3 came. Laundry might pile up. Floors might be sticky. Dishes may go unwashed. It will all be okay. I knew going in that I wouldn't sleep...Ever. Again. And I just accepted it. One day they will be teenagers and I will be waking their butts up at the crack of dawn. Revenge will be sweet. But babies need to eat. And babies need to eat around the clock. When babies need to eat they cry. I felt like breastfeeding was something I could probably do. Or at least try really hard to do. And since this would be my last baby, I felt like it was something I needed to give a good effort.
So I did it. And when I felt like I couldn't, I frantically called, messaged and texted people. I cried and I called and texted more. I got a lactation consultant involved. And then I got another lactation consultant involved. Baby grew and things got easier. Eventually nursing got easier and I felt comfortable with adding pumping into the regimen. Pumping still sucks. But I stick with it because it makes the rest possible.
My original goal of one year is in sight. And I have extended my breastfeeding plans to two years. At least. No, I don't plan on having a kindergartner nursling. But I have read so many articles and have taken in so much information about breastfeeding that I simply don't believe that one year is the age to wean. When you look at other species and the age when a mother naturally weans her baby, you see functioning juveniles who can largely fend for themselves in their society. Think about 8 week old puppies or yearling colts. They eat the same food the adults do. They walk, talk, able to hold their bladder enough not to pee on themselves every few minutes. They are members of their pack or herd. Compare that to the functionality of a one year old. Many one year-olds are neither walking nor talking. Not beyond a weak toddle and a bunch of baby gibberish. Doctors around the world have found that the nutrition found in breast milk is needed well beyond the 12 month mark. Not only do they need the nutrition and the antibodies and the vitamins, the physical and psychological comfort are invaluable and difficult to measure. The World Health Organization now recommends that mothers breastfeed for the first two years. And then as long after that as the mother and baby are happy.
Nursing Elisabeth is still going well. On days I work, she nurses frequently. Two or three times in the morning before work. Then two or three in the evening when we are home. Then once or twice at night. She is the sweetest baby too. She always wants to touch my face or rub my arm while she nurses. Though sometimes she also wants to try and put her foot in my mouth. Or pull on my eye lashes. (I dont get it, but she thinks it's HILARIOUS.)
As she gets older, I can tell a difference between the times she wants to nurse because she's hungry and the times she wants to nurse because she missed me or she fell down or she's tired or she's teething or she doesn't feel good or...well, the list goes on. The bee-bee's are the magical miracle cure to whatever ails her. I feel like nursing is as close to recreating the womb as a baby can get. That's why newborns relish in it. Why babies get that blissed out look when they nurse. It's adorable. And I totally understand that the real world is really difficult for them and any wonderful, warm, happy, belly-full place for them is a happy one. Even at 10 months, sometimes Elisabeth just needs that warm comfort. Needs to be warm and safe and have mommy's smell and mommy's heartbeat close.
I am proud that we have made it this far. I hope things continue to go well for us. But if something were to happen, I can take pride in the fact that we made it this long. I love the feeling of snuggling up to a warm baby and snoozing a bit while she nurses herself back to sleep. I love the big grins she gives while she smacks her lips and pats me after she nurses. And I feel cherished when she cries "mama" and holds her hands up for me, then when I pick her up, immediately rests her tear-streaked cheeks on my shoulder while she pats my back and hugs me tight.
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