Coming Clean

So, Worldwide Breastfeeding Week has come and gone, and in true fashion, I fell behind in my posting. I had two or three additional posts planned, but as I mentioned before, why highlight breastfeeding once a year?  Why not talk about it year-round?  So perhaps those posts and stories will appear at a later date, but for now, I will wrap up what I started last week. 

Now where was I?

Oh yes.  I was saying that the hubby and I felt certain that if we were blessed with another baby, he or she would surely accept a bottle, right?  Well. . .  The Little Guy proved right away that he would be a champion nurser, knowing  just what to do.  Again, I was blessed with enough milk to feed a small village, so I began freezing milk for my return to work.  A few weeks after The Little Guy was born we decided to introduce both a bottle and a pacifier. (The Reporter was a lover of the pacifier.  She never left home without it.  It was our saving grace when I was away since she wouldn’t accept a bottle.  As a Speech and Language Pathologist, I was mortified to admit that she still used a pacifier after her second birthday, but she eventually gave it up/lost it and moved on.)  Breastfeeding was well established at that point and I had no fear of confusion, only fear of preference.  Once again we tried multiple bottles and multiple scenarios to encourage The Little Guy to accept the bottle, but had zero luck.  He was just as determined and feisty as his sister in that department.  Once again, I had no choice but to return to work.  Again I was blessed with a boss (a different one this time, and she in fact did not have the experience of feeding a little one) who welcomed my son to work twice a day to feed.  I nursed in the school parking lot, my office, the guidance counselor’s office and even the assistant principal’s office.  I worked each and every meeting and student around my strict schedule to feed and can honestly say that I didn’t miss a single appointment all year to feed The Little Guy.  I was able to support my argument for feeding on campus by pointing out that the time required to set-up, pump, store milk and clean pump parts would take longer than actually nursing on-site.  Fortunately, I was able to cite my previous experience with The Reporter to support our needs, as well.  I never advertised the fact that I had twice daily dates with The Little Guy, but little by little people began to notice my daily trek to the back parking lot.  I was often faced with questions about my little visitor and I openly talked to my co-workers about my decision to breastfeed and the roadblocks we had faced.  (If you read my dairy-free post, you know that bottle refusal and oversupply were not our only issues this time—we had a dairy and soy sensitivity to attend to, also.)  Yet again, I persevered, we addressed needs as they came up and we took each day as it came with the big picture in mind.

What is the big picture, though?  The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends at least one year of breast milk while the World Health Organization pushes for two.  However, many moms don’t make it to either of those milestones for a variety of reasons.  Returning to work, a dwindling supply, a fussy baby, an unsupportive spouse. . . so many factors can impact a nursing relationship.  Sometimes, though it seems rare, a mother does in fact make it to a child’s first birthday with a strong nursing relationship intact.  What then?

 Now that The Little Guy has celebrated his first birthday, the questions have begun.

“How long are you going to do THAT?”  

“Isn’t it weird to nurse a baby with TEETH?” 

“Don’t you want to have your body back?”

And then you get the comments. . .

“Once they can ask for IT, it is time to stop.”

“You should wean soon, so he won’t be so dependent on you.”

In my typical “people-pleasing” fashion, I smile and nod and don’t say much, but deep down inside I want to tell these well-meaning “advisors” how I really feel.  I want to tell them that I will nurse my child as long as it is mutually agreeable, whether that is 6 months or 16 months, or longer.  I want to tell them, “No it isn’t weird to nurse a baby with teeth, nor does it hurt since babies don’t use their teeth to nurse”.  My body is just fine, thank you—I can run half-marathons and complete triathlons while nursing, as long as I hydrate properly.  I want to ask what they consider “asking for IT” means, since the last time I checked a screaming, hungry newborn baby was indeed “asking for IT”. I want to point out that nursing does not make a child “dependent”, weak, or immature —Just ask basketball great Michael Jordan.  He nursed until he was three.  On my snarkiest days I want to respond with, “Hello?  Give up these nursing boobs, the extra 500 calories burned per day, and the absence of a monthly headache for up to a year?  Are you crazy?”  But I don’t.  I just smile and nod.  Why?  Because I feel judged when I admit to still nursing my children past their first birthday.  It isn’t “normal” or status quo.  So I go about my business in secret, being very elusive in my answers to friends and family.  However, it’s time to come clean. 

Yes.  I nurse my babies past their first birthday.  I sure do.  I don’t feel that there is some “magic” age that babies stop needing breast milk.  How is day 366 of a baby’s life that different than day 365 as far as nutritional needs go? 

So, I’m not putting a date on the calendar and worrying over when to “stop”.  Instead I am drinking in every minute with my little one curled in my arms, watching long lashes fall on chunky cheeks, and thanking God for this opportunity because I realize I have been so very blessed.