Jacob arrived and he knew what to do better than I did -- he latched on the first time we tried and we never looked back.
During that first month of exhaustion and endless nursing I wondered why I had chosen to breast-feed. No one I knew had breast-fed their baby -- my mom was an advocate of formula feeding and so was every other female in my family that had given birth. No one was against it really -- they just didn't understand why it was so important to me. The male members of my family just thought it was embarrassing, even when I discreetly fed my baby, usually in a quiet corner of the room. At times I thought it would just be easier to formula feed and it would be less stressful when in a crowd (and less demanding on me).
The only advocate I had, surprisingly, was my husband. He just kept telling me that I could do what I wanted to do and he would support that decision. We spent several nights together on the couch cuddled up with our son as he nursed (and several nights with him telling me it was going to be OK when I thought I should just give up because of the exhaustion). I grew to treasure every moment I spent alone with my son, cuddled up warmly skin to skin. After all, I could give my son what no one else could. Anyone can change a diaper or feed a baby with a bottle, but only I could nurse him and hold him so close.
I've since gone to work and have started to pump when I am away from him. He enjoys his bottles from Dad and Grandma but still snuggles in when it is time to nurse in the afternoon and evening. When I sit and watch him, eyes wide open looking up at me with his little hands resting on my chest I know I made the right decision, one that has created small moments in time that are mine and my son's alone that I will always remember and cherish.
