Boob Saga: The Story of How They Got Tired.

Milk?

 My boobs have been through quite a journey. I am officially nursing a toddler, something I never though I would do, simply because I was convinced that my son would just grow bored of it and decide he liked food more. Not so! I am very much looking forward to weaning him, but as of right now, we are still nursing a handful of times every day AND a handful of times at night. He can happily go all day without eating anything, and sometimes refuses food altogether just so he can latch on and not let go. I don't think its because he doesn't like food. I just think he likes food that comes with cuddling, is pre-warmed, requires no waiting or prep time and is not full of surprises, like his morning cereal. He seems to thrive on consistency, and this is one of the few things that I have been pretty darn consistent about in his life. Everything else....well, let's just say he has had an interesting life for a 1 yr old. So I feel kinda bad about pushing him off on lumpy gruel, chicken nuggets (even the organic ones!) and whatever veggies he can masticate into swallow-able bits, which are far and few between. I have been trying to plug Plum packets into him routinely, since he seems to like the veggie ones, but I do get tired of having him smack them down and them grab my shirt and screech at me. So I have very little drive to stop nursing.

My saga with breastfeeding began when babycakes came into this world, and promptly fell asleep. I mean, I don't blame him. It was hard work. He was so sleepy. But he then decided to try to sleep for 3 days, making me have to work really hard to learn to feed him, make milk, and heal up, all with nurses chastising me all the time. I mean, where to those nurses get off?? I had one snooty nurse tell me that I was required to write down how long I had nursed, the time it was, how he reacted, how it felt, and other assorted details. I think I pissed her off when my answer was, "Yeah, sure, as soon as I find the will to do that, I'll get right on it." Not gonna happen, lady. I was so tired. I didn't even know what day it was. How was I supposed to do all of that??

He was finally getting the hang of it here!

Then I had nurses that would manhandle my boobs like they were pieces of equipment, or hunks of dead meat. I'M ATTACHED TO THOSE, PEOPLE. Squeezing that crap out of them isn't making me feel too perky right now, ya know! Oh, and forget being modest or anything. It was like "Welcome to being naked in front of lots of annoying strangers, Kate! You'll never feel the same again!" Needless to say, I was sooooo happy to go home and try things out for myself. And I did just fine. Sorta.

When I got home, it was a whole new ball game. I got chapped nipples. I had a massive oversupply. I was hugely swollen. I would have really painful letdown. Every time I went to nurse, I felt like giant hot marbles were rolling down my armpits and out my nipples. I would sit hunched over my suckling babe and cry silently, my toes curled in agony. I remember Hubby just patting my hand, telling me I was doing a great job feeding our son. I think that was the only thing keeping me focused. I was feeding my son.

After a while the pain got more manageable. It was starting to be something I could handle. Then the doc told me that little man needed more, that he wasn't gaining as much weight as they would like. That I needed to get him to plump up. That I needed to sit there and feed that baby. I could have been freaked out, but I wasn't. I don't have very fatty milk. I know some moms that have super chunky babies from breast milk. My kiddo is super long and skinny. I knew that he was nursing sometimes upwards of 12 times a day, some nursing sessions lasting 45 minutes. So I just made myself comfortable in my rocker, and I nursed away the winter.

The good old days.

It got easier, too. I started to feel a lot better, and it didn't hurt so much anymore. I started to love to feed my son. It was a bonding moment, when I got to watch him drift off to sleep, and I could keep feeding him all the while. I learned to write and crochet while feeding him. I got good about keeping food close on hand, and I just turned into a milk cow. I was content and it was good. I managed to stay on top of our little house, I walked a lot, and I read a ton. I was a very happy mama.

And then the teeth came.

When my son got his first tooth, I felt it immediately. He got 2 top teeth first, and it was like a shard of glass sawing at me. I felt like I was being catapulted back to the days of cringing all the time. It took a few weeks, but I seemed to overcome the pain. It wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible either. Then 2 more teeth came in. Then 3 more. It took about a month to overcome the pain of 7 teeth. I was just starting to think, "I think I can do this! Maybe I can nurse a toddler!" And then the 1 yr molars came in. And now I want to die.

I'm kinda beyond caring who sees the boobies now. Sorry, everyone.

I am currently struggling with nursing a lot. My poor little guy just grew in all 4 of his molars at once. It has been 2 weeks of all-night nursing, filled with flailing, crying and sleeplessness. I was working out before they came in. Right now, I am struggling with standing upright during daylight hours. I think I'm coming out of this dark tunnel. It has gotten better in the last few days. But my boobs are thinking of throwing in the towel. They are exhausted. I never knew boobs could be tired, but mine really, really are. Boob burnout.

I feel like when you become a parent, you learn that while pain can be tough, it is totally something you can live through. You learn to live with burning arm pain while toting a baby and grocery bags around. You muscle through cramps in your back from side-lying with a tiny one, soothing them to sleep. Your breasts might feel like hot pokers are singing them off, and yet the fact that your child is healthy and growing is more important, and so the pain goes on the back burner of your mind. Yes, you need to complain about it a bit. (Otherwise you head will explode with the immense task of being a parent.) But you can and will survive. It's gonna hurt, no matter what. But deep down, you're gonna love. it.

Should I keep it up?

So here I am, debating the art of breastfeeding. Should I keep calm and soldier on and hope it gets easier? Or do I stop at 14 months and try to push my son to go with solids? I don't know. For now, I'm going to get him through these teeth erupting, and try slowly weaning. It might be a while, but I know that I am doing him a lot of good, and I think that in the end, it is completely worth it.

Feel free to drop me hints, suggestions or tips about weaning and breastfeeding a toddler. I love to hear about other experiences.