Lord knows I am trying to give up, it is just not as easy as it looks.
She loves it, I love it, but I think it is time to call a close, to say goodbye to breastfeeding; she will be three in two weeks and I never envisioned feeding her this long.
For those who read this with eyes of disbelief I ask you not to judge but feel free to question about why I chose the path of extended breastfeeding and I will happily answer.
I only breastfeed in the morning, and it is a delicious way to start the day, my daughter calls me from her room, she is still babyish enough to not realise her legs will support her out of bed if she tries. I collect her in my arms, sleep still sitting on my lids and I stumble back into bed and throw out an arm which she snuggles onto, her legs fold over mine and she fits like a jigsaw into the side of my body. We are connected, harmonious and perfectly paired.
It is the closest I come to serenity, thirty minutes a day of calm cuddles with my swiftly growing up beautiful baby.
Breastfeeding was such a battle in the start and for six months I dream’t of the end, I cried through mastitis sobbed through thrush, fed through a shield. I envied mothers who simply raised a child to their breast and latched on. When she was old enough to wean we reached a breakthrough and suddenly breastfeeding became more than giving her nutrition and the best of all I was. It became a simple pleasure, a time for us, a bond that no one else could touch.
That bond is cemented between us, of this I have no doubt.
But I feel it is time, time to stop.
She is not giving up without a fight….
When I try and say no she plays me like a fiddle, she tells me she is not ‘big’ yet, she paws at my face and plants tiny kisses whilst using the old sign of milk. She wins me over every time.
But tomorrow, tomorrow I will resist a milky cuddle and tomorrow it will be time to stop.
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