Friday, September 14, 2012

InCultureParent | Breastfeeding in the Land of Genghis Khan

InCultureParent | Breastfeeding in the Land of Genghis Khan

 Like many first-time mums, I hadn’t given much thought to breastfeeding before I had a child. But minutes after my son, Calum, popped out, he latched on, and for the next four years seemed pretty determined not to let go. I was lucky, for in many ways breastfeeding came easily—never a cracked nipple, rarely an engorged breast. Mentally, things were not quite as simple. As much as I loved my baby and cherished the bond that breastfeeding gave us, it was, at times, overwhelming. I was unprepared for the magnitude of my love for him, and for the intensity of his need for me and me only—for my milk. “Don’t let him turn you into a human pacifier,” a Canadian nurse had cautioned me just days after Calum’s birth, as he sucked for hour after hour. But I would run through all the possible reasons for his crying—gas? wet? understimulation? overstimulation?—and mostly I’d just end up feeding him again. I wondered if I was doing the right thing.

1 comment:

Ruth Wilson said...

Wonderful story! We treated Max and Lucia very similarly. Lots of baby wearing, skin-to-skin whenever possible and boobs were the answer to just about everything. I remember talking to Shane's cousin and his wife who had just adopted a baby 6 months before Max was born. The things they went through to calm that baby - you wouldn't believe! Something about the 5 S's. Shushing, swaying, swaddling . . . can't remember the rest. When she asked me what I was doing to soothe Max, I said, "Nothing. I just nurse him and that's it." I think she wanted to kill me. ;)