Nursing Harper on Angel Island when she was about 7 months old.
I think it was last Thursday that Harper went all day without nursing. And so, with basically no fanfare, we were done with breastfeeding. It was such a tumultuous journey with such drama at the beginning that it seems wrong for it to end so quietly. But I’ll take it.
My views on breastfeeding have really solidified since becoming a mom. I think all mothers have to make that choice for themselves whether to do it or not and for how long. But now that I know how truly unbelievably tough it can be, I am passionate about moms getting more support for their efforts. And it certainly makes me angry when they get flak for it.
I think if I had been working full time it would have been much harder for me to continue nursing Harper for as long as I did. After those early weeks of round-the-clock pumpings (10-1-4-7, 10-1-4-7, over and over), I grew to hate pumping. So I really felt for the moms who didn’t have a lot of support at work for it. I was so fortunate to be able to stay home with Harper and nurse her on demand for over a year. It’s one of the accomplishments in my life that I am most proud of. You never can tell, but I think the fact that she stayed so healthy for the first 6 months of her life was in large part because of my milk.
I have memories of nursing her in all kinds of places — on a very windy Golden Gate overlook, in Delores Park with pot smoke wafting by, squished in the backseat of our car, and especially in all kinds of woodsy locales when we got a chance to get out of town. It’s been a wild ride, and I’m so glad I stuck it out. But it’s also great to have a little freedom — and my old clothes back!