Breastfeeding Gymnastics

I have been incredibly lucky with my breastfeeding journey.

It  began slowly at the start of my Motherhood journey, with my eldest being in Special Care for a week, our journey lasted only nine days, but it was still nine days. I had a two year with top up relationship, five week pumping journey, when our dear little girl was with us; once she died I was determined to make breastfeeding work with any baby who would come after her.

Her little sister fed until she was around 3 years old, I tandem-ed with our youngest, who is still going at 18 months, with no signs of stopping.

I’m not here to go all inspirational, tell you how breast is best and all that, because it isn’t that simple

I shall tell you a little something the books miss…

Boobie gymnastics.

Boogie Boobies.

Protective (double) Boobies.

All You Can Eat Boobies

What are these about??

My other children, especially the now 3 year old would cuddle in and be cosy for their feeds. I had, up until now with our youngest and last baby I assumed all of the above were normal. Sleepy cuddles, even more so as she’s our final baby.

Aside from her rocky start with dairy and wheat allergies (Wheat has been outgrown thankfully), she was that cuddly baby,(albeit very loud). Then she discovered limbs. Her legs and arms are hers and that they move. Flailing around as if she’s in the middle of a dance floor..except she isn’t.

She is busting a move, making the most peculiar bodily shapes, all whilst still attached to the breast. My breasts…nipple area have never been moved the way they have with the tiniest. Feet in my face, feet on my face, feet everywhere. Did you know Nipples are actually quite flexible?! Neither did I!

Heaven forbid if the 3 year old comes near them, she occasionally still likes skin contact, poor girl gets “attacked” by the littlest person. Whilst feeding from one. bubba needs to be holding onto the other, feet wrapped around it too..

For a moment, I can no longer see my beautiful little girl, but an Octopus. Hands pulling at my glasses,(why the glasses, every day?) to make me blind, an easy target. Fingers in my mouth, feet somehow entwined in my hair, my arms wrapped around her to ensure she doesn’t fall. I’m captured. She then slithers over to the other boob, in the hope there’s more, only for 30 seconds later she needs to return to the first boob. (This is often repeated).Exposed in the cold air, pinned under this tiny creature. She begins to settle, limbs begin to loosen their hold. I’m able to reach my glasses, returning them to my face I can now see the beautiful girl, sound asleep, tired and milk drunk. Dreaming of more..

Every day I question just how much longer I can do this for?

The fidgeting.

The round the clock hourly to two hourly feeds.

The bonding the feeding has helped me with.

The windy smile.

The bright eyes staring up at me from behind my breast.

My answer..

For a long as she wants it.

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The Wet Wipe Diaries

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