One Year

I made it...one year of breastfeeding is under my belt. I feel like I should get some type of award for that.  Seriously! This post is strictly going to be about my experience breastfeeding so if you don't want to hear about it, STOP HERE.

I knew from the beginning that I wanted to try to breastfeed. I told myself that my goal was six months. And if things were going well, I would go until one year.  I swore to myself that I would wean her as soon as she turned one, yet here I am still nursing her everyday and not supplementing with any milk. I know the end is near though and the thought of that makes me a little sad.

Without a doubt, breastfeeding is one of the hardest things I have ever done.  It wasn't something that came naturally to me and there were days in the beginning when I felt like throwing in the towel and heading to the store for some formula.  My first few days of nursing were extremely difficult.  Alessia had a horrible latch, my nipples felt like someone was sticking needles into them, and every feeding started with me in tears.

I tried every trick and gadget out there. I slathered on the lanolin, I used shells, and I walked around the majority of the day without a shirt on to speed up the healing process. Another mom on my floor at the hospital recommended these silver cups to help with the pain and I immediately sent Kevin out to get me some. They helped, but I was still in so much pain. Since I wasn't ready to give up yet, I ordered some nipple shields and my parents brought them over when Alessia was about 2 weeks old.  AMAZING!  The healing started immediately, Alessia was eating like a champ, and I could finally put a shirt on.

So many people had mentioned what a bonding experience nursing was with their children and how they really enjoyed it.  At the beginning, I cursed every time Alessia needed fed and counted down the days until I could stop.  Being at her beck and call was exhausting and I was so sleep deprived. Once we got to the US, I started pumping and thought about exclusively pumping, but then I realized that sucked too.  Then one day, everything changed.  Alessia got on a schedule, she no longer needed the shield (she became attached to it), and ate so much quicker.  I found myself looking forward to our nursing sessions. It was the only time I could get her to slow down and snuggle up to me.

In a year, we went from 15 sessions to 4 sessions a day and I know in the next month or two we will go down to no sessions.  The decision to stop now isn't due to the fact that she has hit one year old.  In honesty, I would probably continue a little longer because she likes it and it is what's best for her. I am quitting because in May, Kevin and I are going on a trip to Mexico for 6 days and I will not be bringing a pump.  In addition to that, my little snob will not drink expressed breastmilk anyways (she stopped doing that at about 9 months old).

Without a doubt, I think the majority of my success with breastfeeding came from my strong desire to WANT to do it.  I fought through the tears, pain, and sleepless night.  I drank countless cups of mother's milk tea and had to take Fenugreek for months.  I planned my life around Alessia's feeding schedule for over a year, especially the last three months since she has refused a bottle.  My journey wasn't easy and I can't help but toot my own horn for the fact that I made it. 

With all that said, I am looking forward to real bras and not having to wear clothes that offer easy access for nursing.  I can't wait to enjoy more than one glass of wine (because I was never one to pump and dump).  But mostly, I am ready for my boobs to be mine!