Breastfeeding My Teething 10 Month Old Is Hard
I’m feeling all kinds of momma emotions right now. Aster is teething. Her bottom two teeth were the first to arrive. Now her top two front teeth are coming in and she’s feeling it. A bit cranky. Uncomfortable. Confused. She’s not feverish or ear achy and she is thank you God napping and night sleeping like a dream. But, she’s biting. She’s biting everything she can jam into her mouth. Mostly my boobs. And she gets really pissed when said boobs are soft and warm not hard and cold which is her current preference for pain relief. It sucks. There is blood and crying and resistance and struggle. She won’t even let me get her in the nursing position. She stiffens her whole body and refuses to be laid horizontally. It’s like wrestling a baby lion in that sweet little nursery. I feel all wild and stressed. All the things you do not want to experience on repeat 4x/day in 4 hour increments. You never want to experience these things with your baby, especially when nursing up until now has been cuddly and warm and beautiful (mostly. don’t get me wrong, there have been boob strikes and flailing arms and clawed chests (mine) and teething nips along our journey).
But it is a sacred time for me with Aster. Always has been. I gaze at her and soak in her whole being. I hold her tight. I pray. I love hard in these moments. And they make me stop. Pause. Focus on doing this one miraculous thing. And the most ridiculous thing is I’m taking it personally. My 10 month old daughter is making me feel slighted. Rejected. Sad. Like why don’t you want me? why am I not able to comfort you? what am I doing wrong? Now, every time she refuses to nurse, I’ve got to hook myself up to an ugly yellow machine like a cow in a milking parlor (this I know, as my childhood home was literally on a dairy farm). The machine is humming not quietly while my nipples are being pulled and pumped. It is uncomfortable to sit and hold the bottles. I tried the “pumping bra” but that was even worse. It is the opposite of warm and fuzzy. It feels sterile. Void of emotion. Transactional. I’ve worked myself up into a full state over this. I am a grown ass woman and this is spinning me out?!
Errrrrrrr looks like I have some inner work to do here. Super grateful to be a second time mom right now. I’ve got a little (teeny tiny bit) of wisdom and perspective since this is round 2. I still can’t believe we are meant to Mom and do and know All The Things of raising a human without ANY sort of guidance or class or mentorship or real life experience (how many diapers did you change before you were doing it 12x/day?). WTF. It’s one of the reasons why I feel so strongly about sharing here. Being vulnerable and transparent and showing up all messy and flawed. It’s relief. It’s community. It’s building a village. Not just for motherhood but for me as a human wanting to grow and evolve and learn. This is an impossible task unless and until I am willing to show up fully and imperfectly. Oh my hell yes this is terrifying.
But it’s everything. It is living.
These feelings of frustration and rejection. Of feeding Aster not looking like I want it to look. I look a little deeper and remember that this is exactly the way it’s supposed to be. I am not the Master or the Teacher of this tiny body with a big soul. I am the student. I am here to guide and love her and to learn from her. I have to let her teach me. Let go. Lean in. She is growing. I am growing. Growth means change. And change is disruptive and scary and uncomfortable but electrifying and exciting and anticipatory. And being a mom, raising children means constant change and evolution. I can either bang up against it every day and make myself crazy or pour it a cup of coffee. Welcome it. So obviously only one real answer here….
Come on in Change. I’ve been waiting for you.