One Final Thing about Breastfeeding

I don’t have much encouraging words for myself when I breastfeed. So many people say it was hard, emotionally, physically. They said it would hurt, it would take up so much of my time. Almost everyone would congratulate me, telling me what a good job I do for choosing to breastfeed, it would sound so much as a judgment on my son’s part, on every breastfed babies part, for making it sound like a hard chore t do, like a sacrifice.

I think that as much as I loved breastfeeding, there’s only so much that one mother can share about it. There’s is no way I could end my share grandiosely other than saying that every latch time I had with my son, while not always, are the most precious moments I had with him. Holding him as closer to my heart as possible, giving him as much of me as I could, they were the greatest part of why I feel like a winner mom every single day.

Believe me, though, and every mom out there, that it is not always as happy and as zen as we want it to be. There would be moments when you’d feel like you want to wean and just stop, so you could do you, you could have more free time that you could use for yourself, and the worst feeling would be after having these thoughts. The guilt of wanting to give up for your own sake, for your own happiness; the feeling of letting down your child’s health just because you need more for you. It is just the worst. So you try to get back up.

I feel that every single day. And every words of self-empowerment gets harder each time I think about it. I prayed as much as I could that these depressing thoughts would never flow through my breast and into my son’s mouth. That my hearts sadness would not be heard while he’s latched-on and close to hearing every beat of it. I thought, sometimes, I felt myself pissed off with my son and his neediness, only to realize that I’m just mad at myself for thinking so selfishly.

The single, most important thing, that I have in mind whenever I so down, is the thought of my son growing up. I wold mentally compute how much time he’d spend on earth latching on to me. Only less than 2.6% of his entire life will be spend next to my chest. Only 2 years of his 80 years lifetime. And I doubt he’d even remember it. But the benefit that we’ll both reap. Him, being attached to me, always, even when he grows up. His good health, emotional stability, and mental capacity as he drinks the golden milk of life.

So to breastfeeding moms out there, feel every emotion, enjoy every heart beat, and entertain every thoughts, good and bad. Knowing that you only get to do this for a short amount of time is enough of a reason for you to go on and keep going.



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