A year ago, I read a poem that another mom wrote about her breastfeeding experience. It was so eloquent and spoke to me. I took parts of it and rewrote it to describe my own journey breastfeeding my first daughter. It was such an emotional ride! Here’s hoping my second baby and I can find our groove.
“In the hospital bed, when you were two hours old, I breastfed you.
Our first day together, as we both struggled to figure out something that was supposed to be so natural, I breastfed you.
When I could only express a single drop of colostrum, I breastfed you.
With the help of your dad, we supplemented with formula through a syringe, but still I breastfed you.
As I’d cry and curl my toes up from the painful latch, I breastfed you around the clock.
And although I didn’t know why you were falling asleep while nursing, I breastfed you until later learning you were overexerting yourself to eat.
And likewise, when you continued to get a lip blister, I breastfed you until I later learned of your lip tie.
Then finally the lactation consultant identified your lip AND tongue ties and we had them released. I cried as you bled in my arms and I breastfed you.
When I found out you still couldn’t transfer milk during feedings, I worked harder to pump, so I could breastfeed you.
And before long, I was exclusively pumping, which meant never sleeping longer than five hours.
And though I lived with exhaustion for six and a half months, I was proud to be able to breastfeed you, my daughter, until my body could not do it anymore.”