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Five years ago my breastfeeding journey started. And for me, that journey has never just been me and my nursing babe. Around here it was always a family affair, from the first day we brought Elie home. The big boys had been home for just seven months. Ty was still so apprehensive, so unsure of this new world he had been thrust into. So unsure of the bonds he was forming.
Every time I nursed Elie, he had to be touching me. Usually he would sit right next to me and hold her hand or pat her head or rub her feet. But other times like this, even when he was distracted by morning cartoons he’d still find his way to us and tuck in.
He needed the reassurance. He needed to know this sweet little sister was not replacing him. He needed to know the bond we were building was still strong and still ours. It went on like that the whole first year. And even years later when Aurora come along, and even every so often now with IJ, if Ty is having a rough day or things change and get hectic, he’ll snuggle in again, and I’ll immediately be brought back to this little boy with the big cheeks and the wary eyes. I would move Heaven and Earth to keep that anxiety out of his eyes, and I will reassure him of his place in this home and in my heart every chance I get, even if it’s a simple as a breastfeeding buddy snuggle.
