Breastfeeding

Its world breastfeeding week, so I figured it’s the best time to talk about my BF’ing journey.

To be honest, before I gave birth all I knew was that I was going to give breastfeeding a shot. If it worked, cool, if it wasn’t for me, cool.

What I didn’t foresee was how much I would love it, or depend on it, in my sons first year of life. I don’t know who benefitted from it more, me or Ridge.

Before the nurses could even get my son to the scale, he was latched. I didn’t expect it to come so easily but for us, it did.

In the early days, we would sit in front of the window, next to the electric heater. Ridge down to his diaper so his new, yellow toned skin could absorb the sun. I’d strip down too, so I could absorb him. I’d nurse him until he fell asleep, then we would nap cuddled up together.

From early on I made a promise to my guy- that I would never waste this time we had with just the two of us. To me this meant no distractions, or really, no mindless scrolling or stupid phone games, no phones at all.

In hindsight, this promise played a key role in saving my life…

When the darkness of depression fell over every corner of my soul, there was always a small window of light that shined when Ridge and I nursed.

With a slight lip quiver, or hungry whine, my boy could stop time.

He needed me.

Nothing else mattered when he needed me.

Life’s heavy burdens were stacked densely on my shoulders, every step became heavier than the last. I felt empty, worthless, and as though my family was better off without me.

And then, he would need me.

I had to be here, even if just for this moment, I could not fail him. In this moment I am weightless, I am painless, I have purpose, I am needed.

He took me away from it all, forcing me to sit in silence and reflect. There were many sessions that ended with wiping my tears off my little boy’s head. It kept me from sitting in the darkness, alone. It reminded me of all the blessings I was surrounded by. When I say breastfeeding saved my life, I mean it.

Nowadays, the fog of depression is behind me. I am in a much better place, mentally.

I will admit, I am emotionally attached to breastfeeding because of how much it provided for me when I couldn’t provide for myself.

My now toddler wiggles, flips, and sometimes lays on my face while he eats and yet I strangely still find this time meditative. It’s a time for just the 2 of us. Its a time where I ask him about his day, when I can comfort him in his sickness, where I steal tiny belly tickles and play peek-a-boo. I melt when his little hand reaches up to hold my chin, or point out my nose. I love when he stops eating and motorboats into my chest - knowing he’ll get a laugh out of someone. I’ll cherish the memories we create in these moments, as I know this time only lasts a short while.

I’ll be sad when this journey ends, whenever that may be.