So many titles. *Warning, this is a long one :)*

There are so many titles I could give this entry.  Here are a few that crossed my mind: "The well has run dry", "All good things must come to an end", "The end of an era" or maybe even just "It's time".  

The past year of our lives have been amazing.  We've had the chance to know this beautiful human.  He has been such a delight and we're so excited about what is to come in this journey of parenthood.  With new discoveries, milestones and experiences, old ones at times must cease.  Slowly we lose more and more rocking time, holding time and most important to me, breast feeding time.

Breast feeding.  Sigh.  Breast feeding.  Breast feeding has been several things for me.  It has been a joy, rewarding, sincere, character building, fun and just plain sweet.  It has also been a heart ache, a physical pain, trying and difficult.  Despite the bad, the good has shined through.  Being able to feed my soon has been the most rewarding experience of my life.  Like it does to many though, it did not come easy to me.  

How can the most natural thing in the world be the most difficult thing I've ever done?  We started with our troubles in the hospital.  Paxton refused to latch.  He was hungry, he was screaming, but the second he was placed to my chest he fell into a deep sleep.  It's like I hypnotized him.  He simply would not eat.  Who knew that only 1.5 hours after becoming a mom, you could feel like the worst mom in the world.  I couldn't feed my kid. This is the first time I asked myself "what am I doing wrong".  I didn't know that it wasn't my fault.  I already "failed" at having a baby the way they were supposed to birthed, now I was failing at breast feeding too. (No, I don't think it was my fault...but I did)  Man, not a good first day on the job.  

I'd like to say "it only got better" but that just wouldn't be true.  In the hospital, the 2 lactation consultants even suggested that we start supplementing.  It was awful.  I'd been preparing myself for this amazing experience and already being told that I just didn't cut it really sucked. We went home and things didn't get too much better.  The 5 lactation consultants told me he was sucking just fine but for some reason I wasn't making enough milk.  On top of that I had mastitis, clogged ducts and thrush.  I mean, really?  The pain was unbearable.  While feeding I'd have Joe put a pillow on my face so my screaming wouldn't scare Paxton.  I'd be crying the entire time I fed my child.  After I'd stop crying, he'd start.   He couldn't get anything else out.  People offered suggestions, advice, opinions...and most of the time I'd just get angry because DON'T YOU THINK I'VE TRIED THAT ALREADY???  I was taking 30+ pills a day to increase my supply, drinking over a gallon of water and eating so I knew I'd have enough calories.  We tried the supplemental nursing system, pumping anytime I wasn't feeding him, waking up every thirty minutes to pump even though my baby was sleeping through the night and taking nursing vacations with him. Nothing.  No weight gain, falling on the charts....it was awful.  We would supplement here and there and I'd just cry then too.  But when we did, he'd gain a pound in 3 days as opposed to the 3 ounces in a month.  Each appointment ended with me crying and wanting to just rewind time and start over and fix whatever I did wrong. Failure anyone?  

Our Pediatrician was supportive of us and my choice to keep feeding Paxton.  She'd suggest a few things when we went in but let me keep doing what I was doing.  After an appointment, Joe and I left and I got to thinking.  Supplementing full time does not mean I'm quitting, it just means that I was willing to accept help when I really needed it.  We started supplementing and he started gaining weight.  I still nursed him 6 times a day.  I still had my special bond with him.  When he was getting his bottle, I'd pump and save that milk for later.  It was okay.  He was okay.  As he grew our nursing sessions went from 6 times a day to 5, 5 times a day to 4 and so forth.  We went to two feedings a day not too long ago and the weekend of his birthday in Enid, I fed him in the morning for the last time.  I was okay with feeding him one time a day but on Friday, March 6th, a year after our troubles began, things were winding down.  I knew the 7th would be our last feeding...ever...EVER.  For some reason on the 6th it hit me really hard.  I was feeding him and crying.  For a year, we've had our ups and downs, but we've had an amazing thing.  A beautiful thing.  Something that brought me true happiness.  Joe came in after Paxton was done eating and I just kept holding him and kept crying.  I didn't want to let this time go.  Joe started to reach for him and I reluctantly handed him over.  Saturday night came and I knew I'd be a wreck.  I was wrong though.  I nursed him and was happy.  I was pleased that we had done everything we wanted to do.  I made it...all the odds against me, but I made it.  I nursed my baby boy for one year and one day.  When all was said and done, we did the best we knew how to do.

I know a few people that read this blog offered me more emotional support than I could have ever asked for.  These were people that only knew me through a computer screen but they cheered me on and made me feel like I could always keep going.  So to you, Melissa, MJ and Shannon...thank you.  From the bottom most sincere place in my heart, thank you.  To those who helped me and offered me support when I needed it, Meagan and Kami, thank you.  I've known you both for a short time but feel so much gratitude for this journey you've both helped me take.  To Joe, for always letting me call the shots.  Not telling me to give him a bottle when you saw me crying and nursing in pain, you let me take the wheel in this one and I really do appreciate it.  I love you all and I am thankful that you've each helped me in some way!

To my baby boy...every tear, every ounce of pain, every pill I took to make this work...I'd do it 1,000 times over for you.  I love you.

<3