• I am rejoicing at the end of breastfeeding journey, and with good reason
It's official! It's over! It's the end! Done and dusted!
I am no longer a breastfeeding mother! If this is not cause to celebrate, then I don't know what is. There are a few people out there who would read this with a raised eyebrow, or some men who would undoubtedly judge me for saying such words out loud. But hear ye… Breastfeeding is perhaps the hardest journey accompanying motherhood.
My breastfeeding journey started on a difficult note. My son was incubated while I was put away to recover from the emergency C-section. However, as soon as I had my wits and my strengths about me, I wanted to breastfeed my newborn. I first breastfed him while he was attached to all sorts of machines and pipes.
The kid had been hooked ever since! He refused formula, he refused pumped milk. For him, it was only straight from the source. You see, everyone talks about how 'natural' breastfeeding is, but no one ever talks about the hardships of it. Breastfeeding is not only physically taxing on the body but also emotionally draining. I can't tell you how many nights I stood on the precipice of mental breakdowns. My body has not been my own for a long time now.
As much as I complain about my breastfeeding journey (and my complaints are valid), I am grateful for the experience as the advantages were far greater than my discomfort. My son has barely gotten ill in his two years of life. Breastfeeding saved us from tantrums and cries during long hauls across the globe and prevented him from getting sick during his first real winter.
The child is almost two years old, and for those 22 months, we trudged the emotional waters of breastfeeding alone. The days were tiring and the nights were long. In those moments, I could never see the end in sight. I couldn't even fathom how my boob-addicted baby would ever give up his guilty pleasure.
It took eight days of weaning and four days of me being away for him to completely give up on the breast. I had him stay with family towards the end of our weaning programme to really cement the cut-off. He went from waking up twice in the night to demand some sort of soothing, to sleeping through the night! I never in my wildest dreams imagined my son sleeping through the night at this age.
But here we are, I have a completely weaned and happy baby whose appetite has greatly improved. He still co-sleeps but that is a problem for another day. Today, I celebrate just how far we have come and how much we endured to get here.