The Milk Factory

I've always been a big proponent of breastfeeding. My mom breastfed all five of us (at various lengths) and so naturally, I always imagined doing the same for my children. I planned to breastfeed Kolbe, even after discovering he would be born with a cleft lip. After his chaotic birth (which is another story in itself), the doctors informed me that he also had a cleft palate, making it impossible for Kolbe to suck. He would be forced to eat through chewing, making breastfeeding virtually impossible. Not one to give up, I decided to pump for Kolbe. While this still provided Kolbe with the very important breast milk that he needed, it certainly wasn't what I had hoped for and dreamed up.

But along came Reagan! And I was bound and determined to make our experience the best it could be. God certainly blessed me with a wonderful nursing experience with Reagan. Despite his prematurity and despite my C-section and blood pressure problems before and afterward, things couldn't have gone more smoothly in the beginning. He took to nursing right away and never turned back!

Nursing has created such a special bond between Reagan and me, though I must admit, I didn't necessarily feel the way about nursing that everyone said I would feel. Yes, I was so happy that I was able to provide nourishment for my little guy, but I didn't feel that complete connection type feeling that people always talk about. It was certainly very satisfying though, as a mother to be able to care for my baby in that way. I'm so glad I did it!!! And will absolutely do it again if God blesses us with any more kiddos.

Needless to say, Reagan has become such a mama's boy. Bad. If I'm within a 10 mile radius, he knows. There are times it can be a bit much (like when I'm trying to give Kolbe a little attention), but there are also times I absolutely love having that special connection with my little guy. He knows I love him and I know he loves me. It's awesome!

Around the time Reagan turned ten months old, that un-welcomed "friend" of mine returned, throwing things off kilter a bit. I was absolutely bound and determined to make it to Reagan's first birthday before giving up nursing and he seemed to have no intention of giving it up either, despite the slow down in milk production. A few weeks ago, however (yes, after his first birthday!) we decided to stop.

Once Reagan finally learned how to drink out of a sippy cup, and I knew he'd be able to get fluids, I felt more comfortable with letting go. Besides, when he was nursing (just before bed), it was lasting only a few minutes. I knew he wasn't getting any nourishment from it. It was simply for comfort.

So on the first night with no nursing, I scooped up my little man and held him close and told him how much I love him. And I told him how happy I was that I was able to nurse him for his first year of life. And I told him how thankful I was that he is my son. I placed him in his bed and covered him up and busied myself with picking up a few toys around the room. By the time I returned to his bedside, he was already fast asleep. Just like that, it was over.

Mark came in and stood beside me as we looked at our little guy. I started to cry. I knew my body was telling me that it was time to move on, and obviously Reagan was ok with it too, but something it my heart just felt so sad about letting go of nursing. I guess bittersweet would be a better description. Bitter in that I was letting go of something that kept Reagan a baby, something that kept me connected to him so closely, and something that cemented the fact that I was providing for him. But it was sweet in that I knew I had given it my all, knew I had been successful, and knew that Reagan is the baby he is today because of my efforts. Such a satisfying feeling. I can't imagine doing it any other way.