Breastfeeding is so much more than...

Here's another little contribution to celebrate World Breastfeeding Week:

Munchkin climbed up on the bench, asking for some assistance. I helped him maneuver around until he settled down next to me with his little legs dangling over the edge of the wood. He swayed his legs back and forth.

"Na-na," he said, and made the sign for food. Na-na is a word he made up when he was less than a year old to designate food, eating, or hunger.

I pulled out some snacks. He nibbled, then climbed on and off the bench a few more times. We talked about the leaves and the California buckeyes ripening in the tree above us. Munchkin made his way through most of the snacks I'd packed, and finally resettled again next to me. He scooted up close to me so that our bodies were side by side, touching. I sighed that blissful maternal sigh of I can't believe how wonderful this is.

"I love you," I told him, putting my arm around him for a gentle hug and kiss. He smiled and finished the last bite.

"Boo?" he inquired gently.

"Really? You want the booby now?"

I'd never nursed him in our apartment's courtyard before. I felt a moment of cultural-conditioning discomfort when I remembered that the groundskeepers were about that day, mowing the lawns and trimming the hedges. Whatever, I thought, and dismissed my discomfort with a shrug. Then I felt true embarrassment, in front of myself, because I had never nursed him here before...here under the tranquil shade of a tree, here with the dreamy wind, here with the birds for a soundtrack.

"Boo.."

"OK, come on over here," I said. He climbed into my lap and again I helped maneuver him into position. He looked me in the eye and I smiled down at him.

That was the moment I really got it. That was the moment when I truly understood extended breastfeeding. Munchkin wasn't hungry. He'd just eaten. He wasn't thirsty. I'd given him water. He wasn't seeking physical affection. We were already cuddled together. He wasn't seeking love. I had just told him. He wasn't tired or cranky, in pain, teething, uncomfortable, lonely, sad, scared, confused, none of it. He just wanted a bit more, he wanted it. In obliging him, I could also partake of this nebulous, mystical, transcendent, experience of breastfeeding beyond infancy. I could have a little bit of it, too.
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I’m celebrating World Breastfeeding Week with Natural Parents Network!
You can, too — link up your breastfeeding posts from August 1-7 in the linky below, and enjoy reading, commenting on, and sharing the posts collected here and on Natural Parents Network.

(Visit NPN for the code to place on your blog.)

Celebrate World Breastfeeding Week: Breastfeeding a preemie

In honor of World Breastfeeding Week with the Natural Parents Network, I'd like to share a glimpse of our breastfeeding journey. Please forgive the amateurish poetry -- I don't do this often. Sometimes prose just doesn't do the trick. Eventually, I'll be able to really write about it...

Still

I still cry to think how you were too small,

too weak,

too early

to suckle

Still, I held you to my breast,

I let you smell me and fumble around

all the wires,

all the tubes,

all the waiting nurses

Still, I refused the bottle and formula

you sucked

you grew

you came home

Without the feeding tube you stopped growing

because of reflux,

because of weakness,

because of my frazzled nerves

Still, I pumped every few hours and helped you learn to suck

with nipple shields

and SNS

and physical therapy

and kind helpers

Together, we were determined to overcome the

bad latch,

blisters,

bleeding,

plugged ducts,

and sleeplessness

Still, I nursed you at my breast and watched you grow

slowly

certainly

healthy

After 4 months,  breastfeeding was "established" and we could do it

without props

without pain

without interventions

Still, I wondered how long our mamatoto* would last:

six months,

one year,

or two?

Today, at 20 months, I nurse you like a pro

in the bed,

at the table

on a bench

Still, my breast and it's magic milk are made

for hunger

for connection

for easing tears

Still, I can't imagine giving this up anytime soon

we've worked too hard

we've come too far

we are mamatoto,

still.


*mamatoto is a Swahili word to denote "mother-baby". My understanding is that it refers to the nursing mother and infant dyad as a single, connected unit, rather than as two separate individuals.

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I’m celebrating World Breastfeeding Week with Natural Parents Network!

You can, too — link up your breastfeeding posts from August 1-7 in the linky below, and enjoy reading, commenting on, and sharing the posts collected here and on Natural Parents Network.

(Visit NPN for the code to place on your blog.)