When I was pregnant, I had beautiful dreams of exclusively breastfeeding my baby. I would be one of those brave moms that would whip out their boob at the park and feed my child.
My dreams would come crashing down.
He was born a month early and he had low blood sugar. I had to supplement with formula, which I wasn’t totally against. The next few months were epic bliss. He was a champ at feeding whenever I wanted to breastfeed him and a few hours later, he took the bottle like nothing. I was so proud of my little eater and his flexibility.
Until the eve of his 5 month birthday…
My baby was teething and I was doing everything I could to soothe him. Nothing was working and I nursed as a last resort because that meant sleepy time. I put him on to latch and he was not having it. I tried the other one and again…rejection. I couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want “boobie milk” anymore.
Don’t get me wrong. I knew this day was coming. I had a sense he was weaning off the week before. What I wasn’t prepared for was the emotional aspect of it. My precious baby was getting bigger and my body served him as long as he needed it. Rejection doesn’t always mean the end of something… it’s the beginning.
