I’ll admit it’s uncomfortable, at times even painful, to breastfeed. It’s also natural, good for both baby and mother, and, in my experience, extremely fulfilling and amazing. This is nutrition in it’s simplest form, something many Americans (myself so, so included) could stand to see and understand. Witnessing the phenomenon, day in and day out, is eye-opening enough, but to be the "feeder?"
It’s hard, even now, to wrap my head around the idea that this little being needs me, and me alone, to eat. And not just today, or yesterday, or tomorrow. Every day. All day long. And, sometimes, most of the night. While I struggle to understand the concept, I’ve succeeded in integrating the actions. Leaving the house without nursing first is not an option. At least not a smart or pleasant one. Sometimes ten minutes, or five, or even two is too long for a baby to wait. They want milk now and whatever I want to finish up really doesn’t matter. I even find myself incorporating nursing into my dreams!
Pregnancy was a trip….a trying and wonderful experience. Of course it was obvious something was happening, but it was nothing compared to breastfeeding. Having to stop everything, notice and nurture the needs of a helpless baby is an opportunity I would not trade for the world.