Breast Man

I am a big proponent of breastfeeding. Alright, I don’t push women into choosing to breastfeed or chastize them for choosing formula. I don’t give the stink eye to Mamas as they pull out their bottle to feed their little ones. I do wish Mamas felt more comfortable to breastfeed in public, even without covering up (although just to see all women feel comfortable enough to breastfeed in public while covered up would be awesome). I do think that our society needs to change what it deems acceptable.

I breastfed Cameron for nine months. I pumped a bit in Cameron’s early life and he had formula a few times, but as time went on, I grew more comfortable with breastfeeding any time, anywhere and so I put away the breast pump and kept formula around only for emergencies.

I even breastfed through months of painful thrush.

But as daycare loomed closer (and as I started to get to the end of my thrush pain tolerance), I realized both Cameron and I needed to make a change. I was slightly disappointed – I was hoping to breastfeed pretty much exclusively until (at least) a year. But reality started sinking in. My breasts were not cooperating with a pump. I was dreading the pain that came with each nursing. And I didn’t want to tear Cameron away from the breast at the same time as I was tearing him away from me and thrusting him into the arms of a daycare provider.

As Cameron is now in daycare, we have completely stopped nursing. We started weaning in December when we went to Toronto. I cut out the bedtime feeding and started giving Cameron a bottle. Since then, we had progressed to the point where in mid January Cameron was only nursing in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning.

It wasn’t until bedtime on Cameron’s first day of daycare that I realized I hadn’t nursed him all day. In fact, it had been 36 hours since I had last breastfed him.

I was kind of disappointed that I let such a momentous occasion pass by unnoticed. The last breastfeed. Gone. Cameron and I lost another thing that kept us connected, and I failed to pay attention. Breastfeeding has been a battle at times, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t one of my most beloved things I did with my son. And to just pass over the very last time my baby suckled from my bosom by sleepily wishing he were still in bed is just not the way I was hoping to commemorate the occasion.

But really, what should I have done? Have a final breastfeed party? Make a big hoorah about it and invite people over? Or was I supposed to snuggle my baby and cry about another growing up moment that came too fast?

Maybe it really was best that I let the moment pass me by. Maybe those sleepy snuggles with my boy really was the best way to nurse for the very last time. Side by side. Just like always. Not bemoaning the past but looking forward to the new and coming day ahead.

Cameron? I’m pretty sure he didn’t notice the transition either. Sure there are times when he would nuzzle at my chest when he is particularly sleepy or snuggly. And for a while, I couldn’t take off my shirt without my little baby boy getting way too excited (I hope that doesn’t happen again until he is married!). But he has grown to love his bottle. He’s found new comfort in a silicone nipple and cow’s milk.

And really, I haven’t lost those moments. They’ve changed. And I no longer experience them as much. But when bedtime comes, when pajamas are on and books are read, when the bottle is heated, Cameron still rests in my arms, relaxed and getting sleepy, drinking milk that Mama prepared.

Also: Have you seen how cute my boy is with his bottle?

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