“You are still breastfeeding?”
It’s probably one of the most common questions I get when my son, who is now 17 months old, toddles over, raises his arms and then leans into the ‘breastfeeding position’ as I lift him.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“He’s eating food right?”
“Yes. He eats all his meals but still feeds on demand.”
The truth is, he is my third child. I breastfed my two daughters before him, so when he came, I was sure that breastfeeding was going to be easy. It didn’t turn out that way. He was hungry and aggressive
and had a latch so painful that my nipples were constantly bleeding and the pain was so strong that I threw a cup of tea across the room in anger once. I persevered through 6 weeks of pain and there were many tears. Then one
day, like magic, we had a rhythm and since then it has been smooth sailing.
It comforts him. It soothes him. He sleeps well. He sleeps very well. I am in a position where I am able to feed him on demand. His sisters who are 4 and 5 are comfortable around ‘boobs’ and feeding. They
often tell me, ‘the baby wants a feed.” They hang out with us while I nurse him, sometimes arguing over who gets to sit next to his head. Once he is drowsy, I place him in his cot and spend the rest of the night bonding
with my girls.
I am still nursing. He is not ready to stop. I am not ready to stop. One day it will end. That will be it. Until then, I will gaze into my little man’s eyes.
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