Since our night nurse stopped working with us at around the three-month mark, I’ve been putting Kaia to bed every night after Chris feeds her. Our usual routine is he will feed and burp her, then hand her off to me in the bedroom so I can cuddle and sing to her, nurse her (for comfort), and then she’ll pass out, and I’ll put her into the bassinet asleep. I’ve always looked forward to this quiet time every night together. Even though I’d made peace with the fact that she wasn’t getting nourished directly from my breasts, I still found comfort and love in the fact that she still wanted my boobs for comfort and security. So in the last week, when I’ve attempted to give her a breast before bed and she’s gotten fussy, I’ve been a bit taken aback and wondering if our nursing time together would be coming to an abrupt end.
It initially started with her rejecting my breast and yelping. Then I’d sing to her to calm her down, and then as she’d get more tired, she’d grab my breast to suckle and then pass out. That’s been going on in the last week. But in the last few days, she just wants nothing to do with my breasts. As soon as I whip out the boob and stick it in her face, she either turns away or starts to yell, indicating she doesn’t want it. It honestly hurt my heart. She was essentially rejecting me, and it didn’t make me feel good. I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach when she rejected my breast tonight, and I wondered if this was really the end. I always imagined comfort nursing her until at least one year, even if I couldn’t nurse her for actual food. But that may have been too idealistic of a fantasy on my part.
My baby’s getting bigger, I keep telling myself. She’s growing up. Soon, she won’t be a baby anymore. She’s not going to want her mama’s boobs once she’s a toddler anymore. And those are all normal things with normal child development. But it doesn’t mean that I feel nothing when all these changes happen. I still get emotional thinking how quickly she is growing and how she needs me a tiny bit less each and every day. Today, she won’t want my boobs anymore. Tomorrow, she may not want cuddles. And the next day, she’ll be running off with her friends and not wanting to spend time with me. Life moves forward.