The end of breastfeeding...

My third and final baby is now One. These past couple of weeks, whilst stuck in lockdown, have allowed me to reflect on the past year. It’s been emotional, to say the least.

Adding to the anticipation of this milestone, we had an appointment at The Royal Children’s Hospital Neurology Department, the day before his birthday. Luckily the result was as good as can be expected, for now anyway. But it was a long wait to see the specialist and as someone who also suffers from anxiety, this did not help. Edward has a Gross motor skill delay. He is One but only rolls one way, hates tummy time, wont crawl and can’t pull to standing. Considering Alexander was running by his 1st birthday, the comparison has been quite stark. Nate didn’t walk at one but was certainly crawling everywhere and on the move. Now I know a lot of kids don’t reach this major milestone by One and it’s not a huge concern. But the fact he also isn’t doing the other things was the initial cause for concern. Then two blood tests confirmed a rise in a muscle enzyme measurement that can be a result of an underlying condition. So, the specialist was needed to determine if it was a regular delay, that will rectify in time, or whether there is an underlying condition.

The Specialist saw no red flags to indicate a neurological deficit which was fantastic news! He still has a long way to go, with lots of physio and perseverance on my behalf, to enforce tummy time, even with the crying and resistance from him. A mouth swab taken will also be tested for genetics and chromosome abnormalities, but it is expected to come back clear and is just a precaution. However, it still feels a little inconclusive. So now we work hard for the next 4 months before the next appointment and hope for the best.

The other interesting thing that has happened this past week, is that he has essentially self-weaned. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I breastfed all three boys. With bottles thrown in here and there to give me the freedom to work and go out for a few hours. But generally breastfed. With the other 2, it was a decision I made myself, to gradually wean them off the boob. I always thought I’d feed Edward the longest, being that he took to it so much more easily than the other two. Has been comfortable switching between bottle and boob when needed (like when I was in hospital after sinus surgery), then back again, with no fuss. Also being my final baby, I figured I’d relish it, as long as it felt right.

But one day he just started biting. And I mean repetitively biting. The others always gave me a nip, but a stern word and a break for 10 mins or so always broke the habit. But not Edward. He would bite so hard; I’d have to grab his chin to force his mouth open and detach him. There was also more profanity screamed from me, than acceptable. This kept happening over and over. Then he started to flat out refuse the boob. Turning his head away whenever it was offered. Arching his back and crying. Sometimes we would offer him a bottle instead. Sometimes we would put him to bed, hoping that if he woke hungry a few hours later and was drowsy, I would be able to feed him. But after the odd day of discomfort and “fullness”, it seemed to just disappear. At this point, he will still feed once every few days. But I get no feeling of “heaviness” and I don’t think there must be much left in there.

I know it’s not rational, but it feels like he is rejecting me. Like he doesn’t need me anymore. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot easier to deal with at One, than when some Mumma’s have to deal with a newborn who won’t feed - it's such a tough and emotional issue to manage, at a time when you are so emotionally (and physically) raw. But this is an end of an era for me. However abruptly it has occurred, I’m grateful for the time I had.

It’s exciting in a way, the prospect of getting my body back to myself. I always could only manage to lose the last bit of “baby weight” after I finished feeding which is quite appealing. But the closeness and connection, I will miss. Especially since I will never be doing it again. It's bittersweet.

However, I know I was lucky to feed all three boys and that it is an experience I will treasure forever.

It was a tough slog. With painful, stressful, exhausting beginnings. But some advice a friend gave me right before having Alex helped me. She said, “If you really want to breastfeed, you have to push through the pain, and it will get easier. It’s certainly not easy and doesn’t always come naturally”. I found this helpful because a lot of the information out there, harps on about the “naturalness” of it and how it's “what we are designed to do”. But I call bullshit. It’s agony, to begin with. And so so time-consuming. I get that back in the day, before formula, women just had to “suck it up”. But I’m guessing most of those women didn’t need to work, had more of a “village” to help with the child-rearing, and weren’t also expected to look amazing, have a tidy house, stay social, eat healthily, drink enough water, not touch your face and generally maintain the INSANE standards set upon mothers these days. But either way, this advice helped me to know that I wasn’t “failing” when it didn’t happen easily. But that if I could just survive a little longer, it would improve. And it did.

But everyone’s experience, circumstances, support network, pain tolerance, babies demands, ability to survive with limited sleep are all different and whatever way you choose to feed your child is your business and your business only.

You DO NOT have to prove anything, to anyone!

Let's face it, whether they are breastfed, or bottle-fed, they are all going to want to put junk into their bodies like lollies, soft drinks and birthday cake, one day! We are all just trying our best and that's enough.

Love to you + your tribe

Casey xoxo