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Moving On

Heather Hicks
Springfield OR USA
From NEW BEGINNINGS, Vol. 25, No. 3, 2008, p. 28

When I was pregnant with our daughter, I thought that maybe I'd give breastfeeding a try. But the closer I got to her birth, the more I realized that I really wanted to breastfeed. No one else in my family had breastfed and none of our friends had kids. But I knew it was the best choice for our daughter and my husband was very supportive.

I had a cesarean section that went very well. Within 20 minutes of birth I was nursing our daughter for the first time. The hospital was very pro-breastfeeding, so our daughter spent those 20 minutes in her papa's arms and by the time we nursed, she hadn't been cleaned or dressed or really even measured. Our first feeding was successful as she latched on almost immediately.

I found nursing to be easy and wonderful. I was blessed to never have to deal with cracks, blisters, or sores. I had a couple of plugged ducts when my daughter was nearly a year, but I never got mastitis or had any discomfort.

When our daughter was 19 months old, I finally decided I was ready to be finished with nursing. We planned to start trying for another baby in January and I wanted a little time to have my body to myself again. We worked down to just one feeding a day, then we passed two days without nursing at all. My busy toddler didn't seem to miss it and I knew we were done. The day after Christmas, I sat down with her one last time, just the two of us. While she nursed, I told her how much I loved nursing her, how special our time together was to me, and how I'd miss it. She looked deep into my eyes as though she, too, knew it was our last time. Then the moment was over and she jumped down to go play. I sat with tears in my eyes, and wrote it in her baby book.

I can't wait to nurse again.

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