The end of breastfeeding. This may seem to personal for some people to talk about, but it’s an important milestone in a breastfeeding mother’s time line of her baby growing up: When the milk runs out.
It’s a happy and sad day all in one. I have to think it’s like letting your child go off to school … you’ll finally get to change his/her room into that creative space you’ve always wanted; you can run around the house naked; you can do whatever you want, when you want. You’re excited he/she’s grown into the beautiful person you always knew he/she’d be. But, and I know it’s a big but, you’ll miss him/her to pieces. This is not unlike the end of breastfeeding.
Gone are the long middle of the night wake up calls when only you can feed the baby.
Gone are the sore nipples.
Gone is the struggle to get your baby to latch on properly.
Gone is the worry of leaking through your blouse during a business meeting.
No more carrying around a nursing wrap to shield the public from seeing your breasts.
No more pumping milk when you are away from the baby to make sure your milk supply keeps up.
No more washing out the pump parts and lugging the pump to work, on trips, and storing the milk with a cooler so it won’t spoil.
So, you’d think I’d be ecstatic that I have all this free time on my hands.
Then I think there will be no more alone time, bonding with my baby, watching her nuzzle at my breast, drinking the magic milk that only I can provide. No more antibodies for my baby when she’s sick. No more passing along all the good nutrients from breast milk. But I’ll have time. Lots of time.
What the heck am I going to do with all this time?
I’ll hold my baby and feed her a bottle and tell her of the time I used to breastfeed her. Hopefully she’ll look up at me with the same sweet smile and give me a giggle just like she did when it was just her and me.
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