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Browsing Tag: breastfeeding

Because, Expectant Moms, I Know Stuff

I asked Cian’s doctor this week when he’d give me the okay to start weaning him. “You can wean whenever you want,” he said. Not a help, doc. Not a help. I have about a month a half until Cian turns one (?!?!), which means, in the Leah Land of Breastfeeding and All Things Lactation, I have about two months left of nursing.  I’m ready, as much as I say I’m not ready. I mean, of course I’ll miss the quiet moments, and the mommy-and-me time before bed. But once this baby’s old enough to help himself, I’m outta there. Milk cart, empty. Lactation Station, shut down. No more being hot all the time, and chugging bottles of water (ha, ha! You didn’t think I was going to say “water,” did you? Fooled you!), and the constant hunger (all the time, and everything, just gimme the FOOD). Now it’s straight on through to…menopause. Oh, nevermind. Maybe breastfeeding’s not so bad, after all. I was thinking back, though, on all the stuff related to…

Getting a Little Meta Up in Here

Want to hear something creepy? Sometimes, when Cian’s face is right beside mine, and I hear his little lungs working, I breathe in as he breathes out, so that I’m breathing the air that just left him. I know. Go get my straitjacket. I did it with all of my babies (I love how I say “all of my babies,” like I had a herd. Three is a lot. But three is not a herd). There’s just something so…I don’t know. Pure. Amazing. Miraculous. His breath is from the same lungs that were practicing this move a year ago, inside me.  He was once a part of me. I was once a part of him. And now he’s here, almost nine months later, growing because of me, or in spite of me, I don’t know, but regardless, he’s flourishing. And it’s awesome (I mean that in the awe-inspiring way, not the “dude, I just totally scored a coupon for a free pumpkin spice latte!” way) to witness. His bedtime feeding is my favorite part of the day…

Getting My Attention

Cian was eating.  He’s just woken from his morning nap, and I was breastfeeding him, scrolling through something on my phone (US Weekly? Facebook? Who knows, but it was compelling).  I feel guilty when I do this, not just because I’m trying and miserably failing in my attempt to cut the umbilical phone cord, as it were, but also because all of the parenting websites (which I read, on my phone, probably while nursing) tell me that all I should be doing while my baby feeds is stroking the little stubby tufts of hair on his head and gazing at him adoringly. Never mind that when you nurse a kid a half-dozen times a day there’s only so much hair tuft-adoring you can do. It’s not like there’s a lot of it to adore anyway, you know? So never mind that. I figured babies don’t mind not being stared at while they’re not paying attention because babies are usually awesome. And probably not vain.  But I was sitting on the bed this time. It was quiet, and the girls were playing together in the…