lactvism

wheremygreengrassgrows:

(Mommy and Lily Love- Day 2. Look at that long girl)

I rarely share such intimate details on here. This blog is for Lily, and one day, when she gets her hands on the pages and pages I’ve written, she’ll know her parents’ story, and she’ll know, without a doubt, how much we love her. After she was born, I knew that a baby book could never have enough pages for me to let her know how I feel. She’ll be able to look back on the every day life that she probably won’t remember when she’s all grown up, and that makes me happy. Since this chapter of our story is coming to a close, it was only natural for me to write it; it’s what I do.

So here’s a little something from the heart that you guys never knew about us…. Enjoy.

Breastfeeding was something I was committed to long before Lily made her world debut. It wasn’t because I believed breastfed-babies were any better off than formula-fed babies; mostly, I just wanted that relationship with her. I wanted the late nights with a milk-drunk baby on my chest. I wanted to have something with her that nobody else in the world could have. Now, looking back on my breastfeeding experience, I got just what I wanted, and then some.

The first couple of days at the hospital were a cinch- easy as pie. I didn’t have a bit of pain, and I was starting to wonder what all the fuss was about. I thought I was one of the lucky ones because things were going so smoothly. Fast forward a week later, and I was bawling on the phone to the least helpful lactation consultant on planet earth. “It’s a bad latch,” she says. Great, lady. How about you help me fix it. “It’s a bad latch. Bring her on over her and I’ll show you.” So you want me to bring my newborn to you? The same newborn that you told me was latching just fine a week ago? Negative, not gonna happen. I’m bleeding and crying and in pajamas at 5 in the afternoon and my baby eats every 5 minutes, and you want me to come to you?

So I took matters into my own hands. I rented a hospital-grade pump for 40 bucks a month, and I hooked myself up to that thing for God knows how many times a day. I pumped and pumped and pumped and pumped some more. And I did that for 2 solid months, and it worked. Even though that was working so well, I missed the relationship and the sweetness of having my daughter so close to me, so after 2 months away, I offered her the boob and she took it. We were back in business.

Her first birthday came quickly, and for some reason, I was under the impression that after a year, there are no nutritional benefits and that it’s weird or taboo. I talked to her doc about it at her 1 year check-up, and he informed me that my breast milk would naturally change along with her to help fulfill her nutritional needs- amazing. He told me about how in many countries, children nurse up to 5 years old. He told me that best case scenario was 2 years old. It was the year of the swine flu outbreak, and he told me that I was helping to protect her from possibly contracting it. I kept right on trucking, though there were times I wanted so badly to quit, but she never seemed ready. I could tell she needed me, and I was never willing to make her stop something she counted on and enjoyed so much, just because I was over it.

Another year passed, and her 2nd birthday came and went. She ate food like a normal person, and she no longer nursed that much during the day. It became something she had to have at night. She couldn’t sleep without it. She woke at least twice a night to have it, and she would barely let me move out of her grip. I’ve known since then that things were going to have to come to a close, sooner than later, and most recently, we had a bit of a wake up call that led me to believe she has to stop. It’s what’s best for her. Period.

So this past Wednesday, 1/25, we ended things- for good. I cried to Tim when she fell asleep on her own for the first time in her entire life on Wednesday night (it was hard, but night 2 was WAY better). Twenty-eight months. It was a beautiful run, an experience that I loved and worked hard for us to have. It was something that only the 2 of us shared.

Last night she woke up in the middle of the night, and she said, “I just need you, Mom. I need you.” So I put her on my chest, right up against my beating heart, like I did when she was new, and I rocked her, and she dozed, and it was just like things were in the very beginning. I had a moment where I knew that everything I had done up until then was exactly right. She gave me that moment, and I needed it badly. I knew I had given her the best of me, and I knew that I had done everything in my power to make her the happy, vibrant, beautiful girl that she is.

28 months.