Breastfeeding Memoirs | Amy: Part 3 | The End

I have a confession to make.

I began a blog post on Nov 11, 2017, that I couldn't bring myself to finish. I started it. Here’s proof:

It reads:

Today marks the end of a 3 year 7 month and 1 day breastfeeding journey.

Deep breath. I can't believe I just wrote that. 

This is a day that I both feared would come too soon and secretly begged for... at times both on the same day. 

I remember back when I was pregnant sitting in my childbirth education class and writing down "2 years" under the question asking what my breastfeeding goal was.

I will forever cherish the sweet memories I have of nursing my sweet Kay Kay Pie to sleep. The snuggles. The eye contact. The intoxicating bliss of oxytocin. The milky smiles. Holding hands. Touching each other's faces. 

I'm thankful for my breastfeeding journey. Every part of it. From the az

Why didn’t I finish it?

Why has it been sitting in my drafts folder for over 2 months?

It was too much.

It was too much and not enough all wrapped into one and I could not bring myself to write “that post”. Part 3. The LAST blog post about my breastfeeding journey. That. Post.

I had plans to go back to it and actually do a whole post using the a-z format to describe my journey (corny, right?) and I did. I went back to it and tried. It started out :

A – amazing bond that began after I lifted my wet, blood-stained baby up off my chest so that I could actually SEE the face of the wiggly being that I had been growing, carrying, dreaming about, singing to, talking to, loving from the inside out… That Amazing chubby face that rooted unprompted for my breast on our Birthing Day to the Amazing 3-year-old with the same cheeks, soft hands, warmth, little sighs…


Those words up there? Pathetic attempts at conveying something so huge and impactful. So I just stopped trying. No more words. No more sifting through hundreds of nursing pictures (seriously, I would get lost for hours). Not good enough. 

I was going to title this post: 1319. The number of days I breastfed. But it felt wrong to diminish something so powerful down to numbers.

She changed me. She continues to change me. Breastfeeding changed me. Breastfeeding continues to change me. And it didn’t stop at 1319 days. It will never stop. It's who I am. 

Wanna catch up? Here is Part 1 & Part 2.