You may have read about our breastfeeding issues here, or here, or even listened to it here. About four months ago I decided to exclusively pump because I could no longer emotionally handle Charlie’s refusal to nurse (why are you rejecting meeeeee?).
Our stress level as a family went down considerably, and Charlie is still getting breastmilk (although pumping 5-6x a day SUCKS), but I still long for that closeness and bonding that other nursing mothers have with their babies.
Last night (well, technically this morning), Charlie woke up about 2:30, fussing. We’ve been trying to teach him to fall back to sleep on his own, but I could tell that he wasn’t getting there. Randomly, the thought “I should nurse him” popped in my head.
I scooped him up from his crib, settled us on the rocking chair in the nursery, and took a chance.
And it was wonderful!
The room was dark. He was warm. The sound of the falling rain echoed from the windows. Afterward, I held him to my chest. He put his head on my shoulder and fell asleep as I rocked us back and forth.
Please remember this moment.
Fast forward to a half-hour later when he woke up once again. I tried to nurse him from the other breast, but he thrashed and yelled and kicked and whined and cried.