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| That's my little boy. He's reading A Time to Kill - John Grisham. |
My little boy turned 2 years old a few weeks
ago. With that, it’s finally official – I have successfully achieved my goal to
breastfeed him exclusively for 2 years. And let me tell you; success is sweet.
It was
difficult, at least in the beginning. Breastfeeding did not come naturally to
me, like it is for some lucky moms. It was hard, painful work – in the literal
sense of word. I was diagnosed with breast abscess when my son was barely two
months old, and I had incision and drainage (I&D) done, which means my
breast was cut about 4 inches long to drain out the pus, and was not stitched
up, but patched with dressing to let the
incision heal from inside out (whatever that means).
Oh,
there were a couple other obstacles as well, such as the fridge breaking down,
so I had to throw out 50 bags of frozen milk, and the doctor advising me to
take medication to stop my milk flow as to let my incision heal. Nothing serious,
nothing death-defying.
But you
know what? What doesn’t kill you, can only make you stronger. The hardships I went
through made the success even sweeter. You can only appreciate your success
properly when you know how hard it was to get there. After all, you can’t make
a rainbow without any rain, right?
In a
way, breastfeeding an older infant i.e. more than 1 year old is more satisfying
and rewarding. By this time, the bond between the mom and the baby would have
been cemented that your baby wants to be with you all the time and mom became
the ultimate comfort, which can be very flattering to the point of annoyance.
(Again?? You just fed like, 10 minutes ago!) But believe me, this phase will
pass. The time will come when you’ll be the one chasing your kid around,
calling out “Hey (put your child’s name here), you want mommy’s milk now?” while
he’s busy playing ball or building a bricks castle.
The convenience
is nice. When travelling, I just need to bring bottles and formula for my older
daughter, no milk bottles needed for my son, therefore less space taken up in
diaper bags and less time washing up bottles. When he wants milk, I just sit
down somewhere comfortable, keep us properly discreet and there we go. I have
breastfed in zoos – on the tram and during animal shows, during corporate family
days, in the middle of the living room surrounded by relatives during festive
seasons, even in the middle of a futsal tournament, soaking wet and sweating
profusely. I should have asked my husband to take a photo of us that time, but my
face was all red and puffy, it would be too embarrassing even for me to look at
it. Heh.
I’ve
stopped pumping at work now, and supplementing with some fresh milk, as he
still won’t take formula. He doesn’t drink too much milk, but I’m not too worried
as he’s a big eater for such a little guy – you’ll be surprised how much food
can go into that tiny body – he gets his calcium dose from other sources such
as cheese and broccoli, his favourite vegetable. But as soon as I get home, he’ll
run after me, asking to be picked up, and wants his milk immediately, hands
patting my breasts. Sometimes I had to let dinner start without me. I keep
asking my boy to stop for a while, and we’ll continue ‘milk’ right after I eat.
But he’ll mumble and shake his head, and put up his little hand, telling me to
wait. Huh.
People are
telling me to stop, now that my son is already 2 years old. He’s getting
bigger, taller and heavier for me to hold on my lap. As he feeds, his legs
dangled around and his hands would sometimes rub my nose, play with my hair
strands, and pat my chin. Sometimes he smiles as I tickle him, showing his
little dimple. And I realized how much I love breastfeeding him, and how much I
treasure this bonding time with him, and I just can’t bring myself to wean him
off, at least not yet. Despite the many times he wakes up at night to feed, and
despite the clinginess that I have to sometimes cook while holding him in my
other arm, I really LOVE breastfeeding. Needless to say, I’m hooked. And I’ll
stay hooked until the day he pushes me away and grows up. Sob.
