Emotional Journey

I made the decision to breastfeed my son when I was 6 months pregnant with him.

On October 3rd, 2001, I delivered Kindall Isaiah into the world and our journey began. I, being only 19 and a first-time mom, expected only to see physical benefits appear from breastfeeding, both in myself and my son.

When Kindall was about 6 weeks old, my husband and I decided to go out for our honeymoon, and his parents watched Kindall overnight. I had been expressing my milk for the previous 2 weeks to save up enough for him to eat (he eats every two hours). It came time for us to drop Kindall off, and after numerous returns back inside to kiss him before we left, we finally did.

The next day, I returned to pick Kindall up, and it was apparent he was hungry, so I took him in the guest room to nurse him. I sat down on the bed, opened up my nursing bra, and pulled him to my breast. He refused it. I repeated pulling him back to the breast. He still refused it, only this time he was much more adamant about it. He screamed until he was so angry, no noise came out of his little red face. I couldn't explain to you the sadness that filled my heart when he rejected my breast. It made me feel like he rejected ME. I could only comfort him by holding him as we both cried. I ended up getting a bottle of breast milk and giving it to him, and he ate vigorously. I had to give him bottles for the next few days, after trying each feeding to give him the real thing. Finally, on the fourth day, he accepted it. I was ecstatic. I knew that the whole time he had been getting my milk, but to know that Kindall was eating directly from me was an unexplainable feeling. I will never forget the inexplicit joy that I felt that day. My son accepted me again, and I knew that I was nourishing his growth by having him close. A bottle can never take the place of the real deal.