Before I had Henry and before I was even pregnant, I always knew that I wanted to breastfeed and I'm so glad that I did. I said that I wanted to get to 3 months and then when we got there, I said 6 months, and I'm so proud that we made it this far just on Mummy's milk. I helped him grow from a tiny 8lb baby to a strong 20lb boy and although it may be a bit self indulgent, but I'm actually really proud of myself. Only 1% of babies are exclusively breastfed up to 6 months, and although we started weaning a couple of weeks ago, breastmilk has been his only 'food' until then. In the last few days we have pretty much worked out that Henry's allergic to cows' milk, which means he would have been pretty ill if we'd given him formula when he was born too so I'm so pleased that I chose to exclusively breastfeed.
I've been lucky not to have had mastitis or thrush and even in the early days had very little pain or problems with his latch. The only tricky bit was the crazy cluster feeding days where he'd spend all day feeding. Looking back now I realise that it made me rest and sitting down to feed whilst watching endless crappy tv was good for my recovering body. I've lost more weight than I thought I would and have loved every single one of the extra 500 calories a day.
But must of all, I've loved cuddling up, skin-to-skin with my baby at all times of the day and night, at home, in bed, in cafes and restaurants, feeding rooms and toilets...even on a freezing night sitting on a bench on Roker beach before the illuminations. I love when he's feeding away, his eyes rolling with tiredness, and he looks up at me, we lock eyes and I tell him how much I love him and I know that he understands. I love the excited panting noise he now makes before a feed and his little satisfied 'milk drunk' face afterwards. I love when he's feeding away, he often strokes my skin as he's falling asleep. I love when he smiles up at me and breaks his latch which leaves milk running everywhere. I love that he needs me, and only me.
So although this is a little self indulgent, and although I'm proud of myself, it has also been an absolute pleasure and I have loved every single minute.
My favourite milk drunk shots
(It should also be said that although he regularly strokes my face when he's feeding and he likes to cuddle up, he also often kicks me, puts his fingers up my nose and in my mouth and has now started getting distracted, turning his head and taking my boob with him....something us breastfeeding mummies refer to as 'niplash'! All good fun)
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