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My Babys Breast Friend: My Breasts

Baby girl

The pacifier is OK, but it's no substitute for the real thing, apparently

After figuratively falling flat on my face and utterly failing to nurse my older daughter successfully, I’m proud to say that four months into my second daughter, the nursing is just plain fantastic.

Here’s the rub: It’s going so well with her on the breast that I can’t get her off the breast. It’s her favorite place to sleep, and if I want her to sleep during the day so I can work, the only place she’ll do it is on there. I’ve effectively become her pillow, as well as her pacifier.

My breasts and I are tired. We need a break. Or, rather, a breakup.

Not from the nursing, which is fine. We’re just kind over acting as a pillow, but mostly as a pacifier.

Oh, sure, go ahead and say it:

“You shouldn’t let her do that.”

Or:

“Why did you let her start in the first place”

And:

“That isn’t good for her.”

But the fact remains that it now is what it is.

I try to look at it as a finite time in my life that I’ll miss once it’s over. But that’s the nursing part, not the pillow and pacifier part. It’s sweet and all for a a few minutes, or maybe even an hour or two. The better part of the day, each and every day, however? Not so much.

She likes to suck her fingers (or rather, her fist, when she can manage to jam it in there), as well as her pacifier, but nothing soothes her as much as my nipples.

My nipples, and breasts as a whole, are flattered, but they’re weary and feel it’s time she moves on. I agree.

How, pray tell, do you get your kid off your boob when you’re not nursing?

Image: Meredith Carroll

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