by Mikki Schaffner
 As soon as you find out your pregnant, everyone starts
asking about your plans. The most popular questions are: Do you have a
name? and How do you plan on feeding this child? Of course the person
asking these questions already has a pretty strong opinion on what the
answer should be and they are most likely going to convey this opinion
to you whether you want it or not. So, at first I was
breastfeeding because I was told to.
Then my son was born. I couldn't wait to get him to the breast. We
had shared a body for so long now that I couldn't bear to be
separated. Now I was breast-feeding for love.
Then came the first major family holiday. Now I was breast-feeding
just to see my child!
I married into a large family, and I come from a divorced family, so
our holidays were always wild, even before our boy came along. We have
only a set amount of time at each stop to visit with family and
friends. I knew that from the time my husband and I walked in the
door, our poor son would be passed around like a hot potato between
adoring aunts, grandmothers and cousins. After all, he is the first
grandchild for both my parents and my in laws, which makes him just
short of divinity as far as they are concerned. What I also knew they would forget is
that this is my first child too! I can't bear to be
out of the same room from him. I can't stand to leave him with
grandma while I go to the grocery store because the longing for my
little one is just too great, even if it is only for an hour! So
needless to say I was not looking forward to Easter.
My new little family pulled into the driveway at my mother's house
and all of my fears were realized. We were met at the car, and as soon
as the car seat was removed from its base it was pulled out of my
hands by grandma and taken inside. There stood my husband and me
outside, dumbfounded and alone. We moved inside to join the
festivities. For the first time I looked at my loved ones as threats!
"Did my sister wash her hands?" I wondered. "Did my
(usually responsible) stepsister take the baby out to the porch with
the smokers?" Then I heard that now familiar cry "What's
wrong?" my sister asks as she brings my son to me. " Do you
think he's hungry? Where's his bottle?"
"On my chest." I answer with a smile. Finally, a need that
only mom can fulfill. I take my son to a bedroom and nurse. A few
needed moments away from the crowd, a few moments of peace. What a
gift. Was this the secret to surviving the holidays? What will I do
when my baby boy decides to wean?
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Breastfeeding
Reading
Room
