Grateful eyes

My decision to nurse Sam was both simple and uneventful. It was early on in my pregnancy when my doctor first asked about my intentions. For me, the choice was easy. Breastfeed if I was able to, because...why not?

Three months in, we're still going strong. I was one of the lucky ones. Sam figured out how to latch on from the very first time they put him on my chest, within the first hour of his life. Except for one short bout with mastitis right before Christmas, nursing has been pretty painless.

At worst, I suppose it is inconvenient in its own way. For me, it is a drop everything and sit still sort of task. Multitasking while nursing is not one of my strong suits. I'm just not that coordinated.

Now that Sam is going three and four hour stretches between feedings, it is much easier. But in those first few weeks, even though I was on maternity leave and not trying to accomplish anything else in particular, he'd nurse every two hours, or sometimes every hour and a half, which meant that we would just barely finish one feed before having to gear up to start another. And don't get me started on cluster feeding in the evenings during those weeks. Yikes.

Nursing Sam means that he goes with me pretty much everywhere. I've pumped now and then so that I can leave Sam with Matt for a few hours here or there, but for the most part, it is yet easier just to bring him along, and he's still small and cute and nobody questions his presence.

I understand why breastfeeding is considered "simple." You don't need to have any special equipment with you, and there's nothing to run through the dishwasher, and it lets you have a seriously uncluttered diaper bag, and dirty diapers that aren't quite so dirty, and ample food at any moment. But it also involves finding nursing bras that you like, and choosing clothing for the day that offers you easy access, and finding quiet places to sit when you are out and about. It means making sure you have a nursing cover in your diaper bag, and dealing with milk dribbles down your bare belly when your little guy gets distracted and forgets to swallow. It makes me ravenously hungry, but I am definitely eating more calories than I am expending! It means that I am the one who puts Sam to bed, and the one who gets up in the middle of the night with him when he is hungry, and the one who gets him out of his crib in the morning.

I think, like anything having to do with babies, breastfeeding is beautiful and simple...and a lot of work.

But let me tell you.

No matter how much energy it takes to pull myself off the couch in the evenings and get Sam ready for bed - diaper change, sometimes a bath, changing him into pjs, swaddling him, turning off all the lights, settling into the rocking chair and getting set up with my nursing pillow and my phone (to track feedings and play some mindless games)...there is no better feeling than having him nurse until he gets sleepy, feeling his little body get warm and heavy in my arms as he dozes off.

No matter how frustrated I get when he screams his head off while I am trying to finish up a few emails at work and have to interrupt what I'm doing to settle into the armchair in the corner to feed a hungry, angry baby...there is no better feeling than his excited, desperate, grateful sucking as his whole world rights itself with just a little bit of food.

I love the way that his little hands reach up and grab my shirt while he is eating, and the heavy, grateful look in his eye as he peers up at me. I love that he is starting to play peek-a-boo with me while eating, even if it makes nursing more inefficient. I love the way that nursing forces me just to sit and be, to take in the moment, to look at this little person cuddled up next to me who will be so very different tomorrow, and next week, and next month.

Nursing is an exercise in letting go. Sam eats when he is hungry, no matter how much my adult brain wishes that I could be the one to set the schedule. Sam eats as long or as short as he chooses. He doesn't care if I'm halfway through a project or am trying to eat dinner. And so I have to learn to let go. Let go of trying to be in control of everything. Let go of some of the little luxuries of life before baby. Let go of the idea that my time is mine anymore.

Nursing is a reminder that I am totally in love with a little man who depends on me for everything. Beautiful and humbling and scary all at the same time. The nursing life is not easy. But it is special. And I wouldn't change it for the world. Because nothing warms my heart as much as those two little grateful eyes, looking up at me, loving me for being mom, cherishing me for being both a source of sustenance and comfort.