Today is the day, I farewell the battle, the bond and the beauty that is breastfeeding.
Right now, I think I’m bordering on reflection and slight denial in my grieving process.
I have been slipping in and out of the so called ‘stages’ for days now, probably even weeks. It’s a funny thing really, as I desperately cling onto the last shreds of what was. So many moments I just wanted to give up and find a better answer, but I persevered. Sleepless nights worrying was I putting enough effort in, was there something more I could do, when it literally felt like I was giving my blood, sweat and tears. You took so much from me, but I wanted it to keep going for at least a little while longer. It has been the most challenging, grueling, yet rewarding relationships I ever encountered and today I wanted to publicly wish you adieu.
It’s 6.15AM. I’ve brought you into bed for our morning feeding ritual. As you fumble your way in the dark and latch, I think come on, we can both do this. You start to suckle and I know it’s not going to be long before…..fark me!!!!!!! THE BITE. Oh the sheer pain of having three little teeth bite down hard on your nipple. My little baby is finally saying mumma, you ain’t got no milk to bring no boys to the yard. Best you close up shop and bring in the professionals. Cue the formula brigade thanks.
Some of you may think I am using the stages of grief analogy is the wrong context or maybe I am being a little overdramatic. Some of you will think I have nailed it on the head. Because like every part of being a mother, there is no experience exactly the same. Most of the time, there is no right or wrong, it is simply what works for you. Will you bottle or breastfeed, will you decide to co-sleep from the start or reluctantly down the track. Every mother and every baby is different no matter want the nature vs nurture debate says.
I have days when I look in the mirror with blackened bags under my eyes, trying to remember ever being so tired. When I have been covered in vomit or poo or had baby food thrown in my face after trying to be the new gourmet baby chef. I have cried so hard because I just couldn’t find the solution or provide in the way I wanted. Or as my girlfriend’s and I were joking the other day, that as new mothers we all spoke the new language of stupid. Cause let’s face it, even I’ve been surprised at the crap that I’ve said on a sleep deprived day.
The funny fails of sleep deprived mums. Post continues below.
But along with the hardship that is parenthood, there is thankfully way, way more of the good. I still can’t believe how this tiny creature has also become the love of my life. Ok I better say my hubby is still on equal par. As much as I couldn’t even imagine my life without her, I do look back to those baby free sleep ins and late night partying with fondness. But as I’ve said before, it is all worth it, as this girl has officially broken me.
Every day they rock your world with something that could be so simple but it opens you and leaves your vulnerable, hormonal heart for the taking. Forget about watching the news, films about kids or hell even a nappy commercial without welling up. So, when it comes to the monolithic journey that has been breastfeeding, for me, it comes as a very mixed bag of emotions that it has to end.