Tears streaming down my face, I screamed in my head, “How can I do this long term?! There must be something wrong with me. Breastfeeding must not be for me.”
Breastfeeding struggles are real (understatement? Anyone else feel me on this?). Sam would get frustrated, throwing his head back, becoming so red in the face I thought my milk must taste like sour pickles or filled with tiny needles sending sharp, shooting pain down his throat. He was not having it; we were not having this beautiful mother/child bond that I dreamed about.
Early Weeks
In those early weeks (ha, more like the first couple months), I wanted to quit. Throw in the towel. They said it would be difficult; they said we would need to be patient as we both learned from each other. But like this? My patience jar had been taxed heavily, and I was drowning in discouragement. Surely no one else was feeling like this, experiencing the obvious signs of torture I was putting my son through? Anyone? Anyone?
But…part the clouds, cue the singing birds, rainbows, and unicorns…I’m kidding, but it actually got better. A few months down the line when I thought it couldn’t get better, it got better than better.
Nursing Through the Chaos
And now thinking back as I write this post, I don’t even remember when the red-faced crying and resentment morphed into satisfied little grunts as my son happily nursed. I can not pinpoint the precise moment when I realized this beautiful, natural thing everyone ranted and raved about was actually…dare I jinx it?…enjoyable.
As he nurses, tiny soft palms, delicate little fingers, the smallest of fingernails (sometimes freakin’ sharp daggers!) all resting or thumping ever so slightly on my chest; either content with the flow of sweet sustenance or savoring the last drops. These precious hands intertwining with mine as we share these meals together, and I pray wisdom and strength over my son. I feel very fortunate to have this time with Sam that I hope will continue for many months to come.
Not ever single “meal” is pleasant. My son gets frustrated at different times in the day, and I have had to try various positions to help him. I have also gotten frustrated when my milk takes its sweet time letting down and my son is ravenous, thrashing to and fro. I sometimes want to hurry the “meal” when I have to rush out the door. But ultimately, I thank God I am able to do this with my son, and I know that when it’s over, I will miss it.
Here’s a milk cheers to 5 and a half months of breastfeeding! We’re doing it, Baby Boy! Let’s see how far we can continue on this journey!
Disclaimer: This is me putting myself out there. All for the purpose of this site: to become vulnerable in order to help, relate, and connect with other mamas. Whatever your journey, I will always say Fed is Best. Cheers to you and your journey!!
