the end of nursing
Now, it feels like it is a such a distant, and sometimes strange, memory. Sitting on the couch, the bed, the floor, at the table, anywhere, with Ada on my lap or the boppy, nursing. It happened so frequently and was so regular, so natural and organic for us, that it's odd for me to dwell on the times it was happening because Ada probably wouldn't even know what to do if it could start right back up.
We finished nursing over two months ago. I needed to take some time before writing because I wasn't sure if any of the feelings would be raw enough still if it would feel like a cut being reopened before it could scar and heal and be a distant memory. Now it feels distant, which sometimes makes me even sadder than it actually being over.
Nursing was HARD. It took several of the first weeks of life for Ada to show any interest in my being her main source of nutrition. She fought me, wouldn't even try a lot of the time, and then it was suddenly as if her mind completely did a 180—one day she suddenly just nursed. Soon she was only mostly feeding on one side, and soon I was only pumping the other side. Pumping was the part of nursing I hated the most. It was the thing the pushed my emotions over on to the side of the scale where postpartum lives. I felt it most intensely when we went to Utah to be with family for some of the Christmas season and she went on a nursing strike for nearly a week and a half: I pumped and pumped and pumped and pumped and I was MAD. But I wanted her to nurse and need me, and so she drank bottles of breastmilk and slowly starting drinking from me again. It was such sweet relief to have her nurse again, and I was so happy to not be pumping 5 million times a day.
The nursing wasn't always easy after Christmas time, though. She then needed regular appointments (with my boobs having to tag along) with lactation consultants, because she wasn't gaining like we wanted. So I was back to pumping after feedings and then supplementing those feedings with expressed milk. She was almost solely breastfeeding again by 4.5 months and we had a month of that. A sweet, blissful month. We went to Disney World, she was mostly breastfed in the park, on the car ride, at the hotel. But we did a little with the bottle, and by the time we were home it was like a switch had flipped: she needed more and wasn't going to get it all from one side of me while nursing, and the other side with expressed. Supplementing happened more and more, which meant more and more work pumping and saving the breastmilk I could and eventually using all of my small frozen supply.
By the time we went to Utah in May I wasn't doing more than a few very short nursing sessions with her a day, and maybe a 5 minute one in the night before she needed a bottle after every time. She was starting to get up to 6 ounces a meal, and even with the help of solid foods, I couldn't keep up. It lessened more and more in Utah, and she became less and less interested in nursing, besides sometimes being close to me. The day I flew back to NC with my mom and Ada to get our things and go meet M for our summer internship, was the last time I nursed Ada. It wasn't long, but it was when I knew. She hardly drank anything, I probably hardly had anything to give, but I held on as long as I could for that last bit. The next day I tried once more just to see and she blanched and I chuckled and we moved on.
I don't regret the work that I put in all that time for not much breastmilk for her. She was just barely past her 8-month-mark when we finished, which was quite a bit shorter than I wanted our nursing journey to go. But it was all so worth it. It was the hardest part of having a newborn, and my anxiety over wanting to nurse well at the beginning of her life caused me to probably miss out on a some beautiful, relaxed moments. I still enjoyed her as fully as possible, but going forward I will try not to panic when my new babies don't instantly take to that method of feeding, because they are new at this, too. I will cherish what I get from nursing, but I do hope that it works out with my future children, because I saw the beauty in it when it was going swimmingly.
I loved feeding my baby with my body in such an intimate way, but I will not let my success or lack thereof define me in the future. Ada didn't always nurse well, but our bond is as strong as a bond of true love can be, and I still make every bottle for her with care. Every feeding journey is different with a baby, and I cherish mine and Ada's.
We finished nursing over two months ago. I needed to take some time before writing because I wasn't sure if any of the feelings would be raw enough still if it would feel like a cut being reopened before it could scar and heal and be a distant memory. Now it feels distant, which sometimes makes me even sadder than it actually being over.
Nursing was HARD. It took several of the first weeks of life for Ada to show any interest in my being her main source of nutrition. She fought me, wouldn't even try a lot of the time, and then it was suddenly as if her mind completely did a 180—one day she suddenly just nursed. Soon she was only mostly feeding on one side, and soon I was only pumping the other side. Pumping was the part of nursing I hated the most. It was the thing the pushed my emotions over on to the side of the scale where postpartum lives. I felt it most intensely when we went to Utah to be with family for some of the Christmas season and she went on a nursing strike for nearly a week and a half: I pumped and pumped and pumped and pumped and I was MAD. But I wanted her to nurse and need me, and so she drank bottles of breastmilk and slowly starting drinking from me again. It was such sweet relief to have her nurse again, and I was so happy to not be pumping 5 million times a day.
The nursing wasn't always easy after Christmas time, though. She then needed regular appointments (with my boobs having to tag along) with lactation consultants, because she wasn't gaining like we wanted. So I was back to pumping after feedings and then supplementing those feedings with expressed milk. She was almost solely breastfeeding again by 4.5 months and we had a month of that. A sweet, blissful month. We went to Disney World, she was mostly breastfed in the park, on the car ride, at the hotel. But we did a little with the bottle, and by the time we were home it was like a switch had flipped: she needed more and wasn't going to get it all from one side of me while nursing, and the other side with expressed. Supplementing happened more and more, which meant more and more work pumping and saving the breastmilk I could and eventually using all of my small frozen supply.
By the time we went to Utah in May I wasn't doing more than a few very short nursing sessions with her a day, and maybe a 5 minute one in the night before she needed a bottle after every time. She was starting to get up to 6 ounces a meal, and even with the help of solid foods, I couldn't keep up. It lessened more and more in Utah, and she became less and less interested in nursing, besides sometimes being close to me. The day I flew back to NC with my mom and Ada to get our things and go meet M for our summer internship, was the last time I nursed Ada. It wasn't long, but it was when I knew. She hardly drank anything, I probably hardly had anything to give, but I held on as long as I could for that last bit. The next day I tried once more just to see and she blanched and I chuckled and we moved on.
I don't regret the work that I put in all that time for not much breastmilk for her. She was just barely past her 8-month-mark when we finished, which was quite a bit shorter than I wanted our nursing journey to go. But it was all so worth it. It was the hardest part of having a newborn, and my anxiety over wanting to nurse well at the beginning of her life caused me to probably miss out on a some beautiful, relaxed moments. I still enjoyed her as fully as possible, but going forward I will try not to panic when my new babies don't instantly take to that method of feeding, because they are new at this, too. I will cherish what I get from nursing, but I do hope that it works out with my future children, because I saw the beauty in it when it was going swimmingly.
I loved feeding my baby with my body in such an intimate way, but I will not let my success or lack thereof define me in the future. Ada didn't always nurse well, but our bond is as strong as a bond of true love can be, and I still make every bottle for her with care. Every feeding journey is different with a baby, and I cherish mine and Ada's.
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