While feeding Loretta

Don't read if you don't like talking about breastfeeding. There. There's my disclaimer.

Ok, here's the deal: I don't like breastfeeding. Actually, I lean towards dislike. At first I felt guilty for thinking that, so I never said it out loud. But then I realized I don't really have to like it. I am not a bad mom for it being one of my less loved roles, nor does it make one a good mom just because she loves it. I wanted to love it, I just don't. 

With William, I attempted to nurse him but we had a few forces against us and after 3 weeks of emotional and mental trauma over milk that never came, his wise pediatrician gave.me the most comforting advice and I gave it up. I always wished I had been able to, but giving it up was the best choice I could have made at that point. I was focusing so much on his caloric intake, and my inability to provide it, that I was missing out on bonding with my new baby.

With Charles, it worked! I was so over the moon with excitement that it took me a couple of months to realize I actually didn't like it. Sure, I liked providing everything he needed. I liked not paying $30/week for his food. I liked not washing 6 bottles every day. But I didn't like the act of feeding him. I planned to stop around 6 months, but before I had the opportunity to make that conscious decision it was made for me: I got pregnant and my body quit making milk. Can't explain it. Doesn't always happen that way, but it did for me. Again, I spent 3 weeks constantly trying everything I could to get it back - but it was gone. Then, at the advice of a loving friend, I gave up. And again, at that moment, there was no wiser choice. It felt like such a loss of control and failure to not make a conscious decision on when to stop, but like all decisions in life - it wasn't really mine to make.

Then there was Loretta. Just like with Charles, it worked! And while I was happy it worked for all of the reasons I already knew, I also already knew I wasn't a big fan. I don't like nursing in front of anyone. If I had it my way I wouldn't even do it in front of anyone. I'm not attempting to not-offend others, and I'm not so self loving that I think anyone actually cares, but I do. I just don't like it. I don't like having to think about where we are going at what times and mapping out a nursing path. I don't like covering up, and I don't like being uncovered. And pumping. Enough said there, right? Point is - There are a lot of things I just don't like about it.

So yesterday, while I was nursing Loretta, I caught myself in a perplexing mind trap: I wanted her to grow up a bit so we were past the breast milk/formula stage, and yet I wanted her tiny fingers to never grow at all. I wanted her precious little nose to stay just how it is. I didn't want her to stop fitting on one arm. I didn't want her to grow up to walk and run and go to kindergarten. I just wanted her to freeze and be my newborn baby forever.

So even though at times I'm tired of nursing her, or wish I wasn't, or counting down the days until I won't - I need to remind myself that one day I'll wish I was. I'll wish I was the only one who got her 3am giggles. I'll wish I was the only one who could (almost) always soothe her. It's a trap, this parenthood thing. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. I enjoy every stage and watching them grow, but I don't want them to ever grow at all. It is possible this is the last of our Wallis babies, so I cherish each moment just a little bit longer. 

I don't like breastfeeding. But I'm still very thankful that I can, and do. I have guilted myself too much over the fact that I didn't LOVE pregnancy (what, with the emotions, cramps, lack of good sleep, and endless heartburn) and I don't LOVE breastfeeding. Look at that mom over there, she does. Aren't we supposed to? But then I realized - I love my babies. That's what I'm 'supposed' to do.