Our Journey Comes to an End

It saddens me tremendously to even write this post. And I don't want to dwell on it. But I must share.

This week, my breastfeeding journey with Cole came to a close. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made in my life. Also, one of the most stressful, as I knew it would cause Cole (and thereby, me) great sadness. It was a choice I made for the health of my breast. I had been dealing with a cut on my nipple for about five weeks. (I think the cut originated from none other than that damn milk blister that plagued me for months and months). I had seen one of my midwives about it and she had prescribed me an anti-bacterial/anti-fungal ointment. She had said that if it didn't heal in a week, I should see the breast specialist I saw back in January, and that I should consider stopping the nursing.

I gave it 3 weeks. I thought it was getting better but it seemed to come back every few days. Imagine a cut on another part of your body that heals and then opens up again. It stings, it hurts. It can even bleed. It's a Staph infection waiting to happen. Finally, this past Monday while I was going to work, I realized that the only way for it to COMPLETELY heal was to stop breastfeeding. I had tried getting Cole to nurse a different way and that was unsuccessful. I think after two years it's awfully hard to get a child to improve his latch. I talked to him about it, but I just don't think he truly understood. I tried to get him to nurse for just 5 or 7 minutes at a time and it made him very upset when I tried to end before he was ready.

So Sunday night, June 3, was the last time we nursed. There have been times previously when I have thought to myself, this could be the last time we ever nurse. But I didn't think of it that night. I was laughing too much.  Why? Because the nursing session was on the funny side. Keith and Cole had come back from visiting Keith's father and that side of the family. Cole and I were nursing on the loveseat and Keith was sitting on the larger sofa. Keith kept talking and excitedly telling me about the afternoon. (I had to stay home and plan my lessons for the week). During Keith's excited re-telling he would stop occasionally to ask Cole a question. And Cole would stop nursing (ouch!) and answer or repeat what Keith said. Finally, I said lightheartedly - "Would you let him finish, please?" So, Cole stopped nursing again and said, "Dada, yet (let) me finish!" With that he nursed until he was finished and ready to play.

The past week, has consequently, been a really tough week for me. Not only was I dealing with my guilt over this decision, but I was also stressed out at work. I couldn't wait for the work-week to end. Monday afternoon was the most difficult part of the week, because it's when reality first struck Cole that he wasn't going to get Doo Doo anymore. And the residual guilt and sadness from that lasted all week for me. I saw the breast specialist to be sure I had made the right decision and she agreed that it needed at least a week to heal on its own. She said pumping would aggravate it even more (which I had done Monday and Tuesday). Within a week, my milk supply would be gone.  She was so wonderful though. She saw the pain in my eyes (I nearly started crying right there) and was very compassionate and even gave me her number in case I needed any more help.

All week, I was also dreading the morning wake-up request for Doo Doo, which occurred Saturday morning. But he handled it like a champ. He asked for Doo-Doo, I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't have any more Doo Doo." And just as I was about to suggest a bottle of milk, he asked for it.

So, our two-year breastfeeding journey has come to an end. I know that most people don't get to two years. I just have to accept that the decision I made - to wean before my child was ready- was the right one, because it is one I made for my health. And for the health of other children in our future.