Liquid Gold

Liquid gold. This is how I have come to view breastmilk and it shocks the hell out of me. I'm on the verge of weaning my youngest to formula and the idea of transitioning her from mama's milk to moo milk feels like trading in Victoria's Secret for a Wal-Mart $3.99 bra. I have become a total snob! I did not breastfeed our first child, and I felt liberated in my decision to go against La Leche's strong urging to give my child "nature's best food." I know plenty of women who have raised great children on formula (including my mother), and I have no problem with anyone who makes this choice. Six months ago I never would have imagined feeling this way about breastmilk, and six months ago I never thought I would be a nursing mother. When our daughter was born, I decided to try breastfeeding since it wasn't something I experienced with our first. However, the idea of anything touching my nipples almost convinced me to go with a bottle and after receiving no help from the nurses in the hospital, with the exception of Christena the first night, I thought it would be something I would give up sooner than later. I mean, a new mom who delivered via c-section can only take so much engorgement, cracked nipples and leaky breasts. I decided I'd take it one day at a time. Here I am, 150 days into it and still going strong. I actually have to close my eyes when I pour old milk down the drain because it pains me to see it go to waste. I'm sure there's a therapist out there who would love to tackle that issue! I find myself wanting to continue nursing as long as I can to ensure she receives the best food possible, even though running practically leaves bruises on my chin and I look like I should be working a pole. Maybe I feel this way because I want full credit? Since conception, every bit of growth and development has been fueled by my body. I take pride in those chubby cheeks and delight in her chunky thighs. Or maybe I feel this way because I know she is my last baby and every bit of transition with her will be difficult? I can safely say, though, that I don't want to be anything like that neurotic woman who breastfed her "babies" until grade school (www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxv6R9fUO74) and am glad I'm facing this struggle when she's 5 months old, not 5 years old. Whew, suddenly I feel much better knowing I could be crazier. Bottom's up!