(Part I here.)
(Ok, I was wrong about nursing Frances for the last time on Friday morning. I was dying on the left side yesterday morning. But the right side is e-m-p-t-y. So we're close, but not done. And I'm still feeling reflective about the whole thing. And I apologize in advance about all the links... Apparently, I've written a fair bit about breastfeeding over the past year.)
Nursing in public
It's strange - I have always hated nursing in front of my mother or mother-in-law (they stare), but I was always more than comfortable nursing in Starbucks, at prenatal class group get-togethers, or in the middle of a huge field of strangers. (I hate that photo, btw. I did not look good 4wks postpartum. Anyway... It's at Edmonton's Heritage Festival, in a huge central park, and it was my first experience nursing in public. It was fine.)
I was lucky that I didn't ever run into rude people, or stupid business practices. I genuinely have only had good experiences nursing in public (apart from that one time that my mother-in-law sat next to me and stared at my freaking boob).
Support (or lack thereof) of my Peers:
It's strange - in this culture where breastfeeding is all-but shoved down our throats, and where women who don't breastfeed are often vilified, I felt very lonely in my breastfeeding decisions. Out of the 14 women with small children that I saw over the course of the last year, only 2 of them chose to breastfeed exclusively. Most of them either didn't try nursing, or stopped after a few weeks. And some of them made comments that made me feel strange about exclusively breastfeeding for so long. One of my friends actually said that breastfeeding is "gross". It was hard.
Distracted baby
So, after getting through all the miserableness of the first few months, breastfeeding was great and wasn't much of a challenge again until Frances discovered The World. I had no idea how trying it would be to feed a baby who is far too interested in everything to settle down enough to eat. I think this was at about five months - and this is when I had to stop nursing in public - because she wouldn't pay attention long enough to get a full meal. (Plus, she made several valiant attempts to get me to flash rooms full of people. I think she may have even succeeded a few times. *deep sigh*)
Plugged Ducts
I thought I was past all the breastfeeding hurdles when... Oh. My. Gawd. It only took a few days to clear things up (the girl was a champion eater!!), but it was not nice. (We nursed like crazy, I massaged, hot-packed, hot-showered, everything. And it still took too long, in my opinion.) Ever tried sleeping with a bra full of rocks? Yeah. That's how fun it is.
Fecking Teeth
Teeth (upper teeth) were the beginning of the end. Frances was a late bloomer, and the bottom teeth didn't come in until eleven months. I didn't even notice them. The upper teeth, however, were a deal-breaker. (Well, tooth. She's still stuck at just three teeth as I write this.) I consciously cut back when the top tooth made it's appearance because, well, ouch. (I still have bite-mark scabs on my nipple right now.)
Weaning
These last few weeks have been hard. Going back to work, getting busy, everything has put nursing on the back-burner. It doesn't help that Frances is not a cuddly child - breastfeeding has always been a means to an end for her. *sigh*
I am glad that weaning appears like it's going to be very, very easy for us. I think it would break my heart if I had a child who was crying to be nursed when I wanted to stop. So, I guess I'm lucky.
(But I'm still feeling sad. It feels like the end of an era. I'm not sure how I feel about this growing up crap.)
