My annual treatment was scheduled this morning for just a few short weeks from now. After the birth of my son last year, I no longer feel trepidation before the treatment, only an impatience to be past it and the side effects so I can go back to being his mother.
This time, however, I also feel sorrow because it marks the end of nursing my (almost) 15-month-old.
Nursing has been one of the greatest challenges & pleasures of my life. I started out as one of those starry-eyed pregnant women who plans to have a natural, drug-free birth, nurse till the baby self-weans or turns two (whichever comes first), and provide an organic & healthy environment pre- & post-birth.
The reality? I ended up having a C-section after 89 hours of labor, and initially nursing was a disaster that left me weeping and depressed. We’ve been able to fulfill the third goal about 80% of the time. During the other 20% – travel + relatives – we just do the best we can.
This taught me right away that parenting, like most important relationships, is about the best possible compromise. There’s a complex weighing of every decision: I’m not making enough milk for him, but don’t want to give him a bottle, but he is hungry, and as much as I hate to admit it, I need to rest = Bean nurses for half of his nourishment & receives a bottle the rest of the time. I can look at this as failure, or I can look at it as my being the healthiest mother possible for him.
Just as Bean & I found our nursing rhythm when he was 3 months old, I had my 2010 treatment, after which I pumped & dumped for three months till the meds exited my system and I could nurse again. When he was six months old, I tried to get him to latch, but he’d refuse and cry for the bottle. So I continued pumping milk for him for another six months, though I hated the process.
While we were in Kauai for his first birthday, he suddenly started nursing again, and has been doing so for almost 3 months now. Being able to put away the pump, and to feed and soothe him throughout the day & night, is one of the great joys of my life. I love the way his fat hands hold on, the way his eyes close, and how he murmurs “mmm, mmmm, MMMMM” to himself. I love the intimacy of us being joined together again.
Many of my friends chose not to or could not nurse, or are planning on weaning before the baby turns two. I understand that and believe that each mother must make decisions that are best for her & her family. But I find incredible happiness in nursing this child who once lived inside me, and now carries my heart everywhere his chubby legs can take him.
Nursing transforms my body into a source of nourishment and beauty far beyond fickle fashion. It may protect him (God willing) from the health issues that plague my extended family, and it provides both of us quiet time to physically and emotionally connect during days that are beginning to run into each other in his growing-up-too-quick.
Through having a child, I’ve come to a new understanding of God’s love for me, and my mother’s love for me. Their love has become tangible, corporeal through this boy’s flesh; my love is made tangible for Bean through my milk.
Letting go of nursing feels like the start of a lifetime of letting go as he grows up. I want him to thrive and be independent, and I also feel sadness at this inevitable growing up and away.
Cella is one of the few friends who understands what this means to me, how emotional this bond is. In a recent phone call, she said that when her doctor said she might have to take a 10-day course of antibiotics and stop nursing during that time, she felt a sense of loss and thought of me, of what it meant to give it up for so many months. As I always do when I feel deeply moved, I covered it up by minimizing my experience, instead of owning it, and, by doing so, also did not honor her love and empathy. (Sorry, C – I’m working on that!)
I could pump & dump again for three months, but I just don’t think I have it in me to do it again. Bean is a toddler now and most days I feel like I’m barely keeping up with him before crawling exhausted into bed at 10 pm. Adding something I found stressful and tiring when he was far more stationary doesn’t seem like a good fit for where we’re at right now.
But, I’m not ruling anything out. As I learned after his birth, being a mother means staying wide open to all possibilities. More and more I see that living in hope and reaching high for one’s child is balanced with accepting the (unlooked for, unexpected) gifts you are given instead.
Nursing for the sweet six months I was given has been an incredible gift – one that I will deeply miss.
13 comments
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May 23, 2011 at 12:45 pm
sprogblogger
I’m having to wean my son earlier than I’d like due to health issues, and I understand your feelings. I never thought I’d love this so much, and I never expected to feel so sad at having to give it up. Thinking of you during this hard time.
May 23, 2011 at 12:49 pm
Basil
When he is older and is able to read, he shall be nursed again; although this time by the love for him that emits from these beautiful passages.
May 23, 2011 at 12:58 pm
a.
I’m still tied to my son even though I weaned him at 15 months. OUr experience with nursing was also rocky at the beginning. But he holds on to me still as if he were still a nursing baby. He searches for my presence at night, he hugs me periodically in the day. Like you, having him has opened my consciousness to the circles of life in which this world moves. May Allah keep your saya always over Bean. As always, I’m rocked emotionally to read that another treatment is coming up. Much love and dua for your strength and health and for that of your family.
May 23, 2011 at 1:48 pm
Maleeha
Very sweet, your love is palpable through this words, as Basil says. I’m nursing J to sleep still and although there are times thats frustrating, the thought of him being completely done makes me feel hollow. I hope your treatment leaves you feeling renewed and replenished and energized to run after the little one.
May 23, 2011 at 2:22 pm
Moonwolf
You said it best yourself, my friend – stay wide open to all possibilities!
It’s never easy deciding between restarting treatments and other things – not just the one you’re facing down. But I’m pretty sure that you’re going to continue to beat all the odds as you do so well and things will work out for the best in all ways in the end!
May 23, 2011 at 4:56 pm
koonj
Thank you for sharing, dear one. My experience of nursing was so painful (because of that freakish over-production we had for 3 months) that my efforts were focused on concluding it with as little fanfare as possible. 8 months is all we had, but when you describe the experience my heart aches. Secretly, I sometimes give R the bottle – yes, I know she is 5 and I shouldn’t – for the occasional naptime that both of us need desperately. Watching her rest, securely, as she imbibes the milk, and then roll over and clasp my neck, is something of a way I reach back into time. It’s not nursing, but i love it.
May 24, 2011 at 5:01 am
Rabbi Rachel Barenblat
Basil is wise and I love what he says here.
Drew weaned himself around 9 months, and I had such complicated mixed feelings about it! On the one hand I was sorrowful, and like you I think, felt as though this was the beginning of a long lifetime of separation and drawing further apart. And on the other hand, I was proud of him for taking that step into his own fullness… and I have found that I still derive deep joy from our before-bed and after-waking cuddles, in which he settles on my lap and drinks his bottle of milk. (He uses a sippy cup at all other times, but still takes a bottle before bedtime and immediately upon waking — and I know part of the reason why I haven’t yet weaned him off of that practice is that I love the way it replicates a tiny bit of what I enjoyed about nursing.)
But most of all I want to say that Basil is right, and that your Bean draws nourishment from you in all kinds of ways, tangible and intangible. Even when you are no longer providing milk, you will be providing sustenance for him with your heart and your actions and your demeanor and your way of being his mama.
May 24, 2011 at 6:27 am
Aisha
I held off reading this- because I knew it would kick my emotional butt- and it did- writing this through tears because I feel how difficult this is for you in your words [though ofcourse I can never fully know] and I’m sorry that though you have a beautiful perspective on this and are ever thankful of your blessings that this process had to be cut before you both were ready. beautifully written. as always. Love you!
May 24, 2011 at 12:49 pm
Aisha
I also failed to add that though it may be little comfort to you at this moment you are so amazing to have come this far nursing him- 15 months for ANYONE is an accomplishment but the depths of patience and self-sacrifice you swam through to give him this gift is beyond words- he is so lucky to have you as his mother.
May 25, 2011 at 10:51 am
M
Beautiful post, Masha’Allah! You are so amazing, Masha’Allah- few can endure the struggles that you went through to nurse Bean. It took me between 4 and 5 months to free myself of the pump to nurse my little one, and I almost gave up! Your example was one of the things that inspired me to keep going. As you nourished Bean, you were also a means of nourishment for others, and Insha’Allah, you will continue to be that for him and for all of those others whose lives you touch. May Allah make this next treatment easy for you, and may He bring you and Bean even closer in ways that you never imagined. Amen.
May 25, 2011 at 4:36 pm
Safiyyah
Salaams Dear Baraka: JAK for sharing your intimate journey with us. Lovely post.
May 25, 2011 at 10:33 pm
Baraka
Sprogblogger: Thanks for your support, and I hope that the weaning process is made easier on you too. Wishing you health & happiness!
Basil: Thank you for the beautiful perspective, as always, my love.
a.: Aw, the way he reaches for you is so beautiful, mA! Ameen to your beautiful duas!
Maleeha: It can be very draining…part of me knows I will iA have more energy after weaning but it still feels hard right now. Thanks for the virtual hugs, sweetie.
Moonwolf: I so appreciate your support & the e-mail you sent. Thank you for your advice & insights!
Koonj: I love that story – the image of you two together in post-bottle/nursing slumber is so sweet. Thank you for sharing it, love.
Rachel: I love your story too. Such amazing ways we foster that deep and mysterious connection with our children. And thank you for your loving reminder that the nurturing will go on in a different form.
Aisha: You know how much I’ve struggled with this my friend, and I truly appreciate your love and support throughout. Thank you for listening for the past 15 months!
M: Sweetie, you’re an amazing & inspiring mother – thank you so much for your loving words. I can’t wait to see you & the little one again soon, iA!
Safiyyah: Thank you, dear!
So appreciate your support, everyone – thank you so much!
Warmly,
Baraka
May 28, 2011 at 2:51 pm
hopikey
I came across your a link to your blog about a year or so ago on Happy Muslim Mama’s blog. I read through each of your posts – some of them on my phone whilst nursing my nose in the wee hours of the morning. This has to be my favourite post to date. I nursed my son till he was two. It was also hard going for me for the first few months and I almost gave up. When I started working full time again, my little one was only 10 months old. My trusty pump would go to work with me and I would have to find a quiet room in a school full of 700 children to pump milk. It was not easy. I think I did this for about 7 months and the looks I would get from some colleagues who thought nursing a child after the age of 6 months was wrong, I eventually found amusing. The little one is 2 and half now. Sometimes I miss that bonding with him but like a. comments above, I get my hugs throughout the day and sometimes he will fall asleep lying with his head nestled into my neck and his arms as far around me as they can go. Those moments are priceless.