What kind of breast would madam like today?

Eve has just turned 5 months and we are rolling rapidly towards 6 months when things all change. At 6 months babies have another large growth spurt, get more mobile and (if you listen to the WHO) move onto solids.

I have found over the past 5 months that my attitude to breastfeeding changes all the time. There are times, usually when I am trying to fit in expressing milk at work around all the other things I have to do, that I wish I had never bothered. There are times that I panic that my milk is running out (usually by Friday I am lucky if I manage to express a full feed full during the day), and look up at the unopened tin of formula in our kitchen expecting to have to open it. Now I am back at work I get increasingly annoyed that I always have to wake up to feed Eve overnight and still go to work the next day while the Boy sleeps through. So, there are lots of reasons why breastfeeding really pisses me off.

However, on balance I am so glad I did it. Aside from all the health benefits to Eve, it is just usually much easier. No need to take bottles or worry about heating or whether we have enough formula when, as she has a lot over the last week, been eating variable amounts and at odd times because she is ill. If she is with me and we get stuck in traffic or something takes a bit longer than we thought, we have no issues because I can, and have, feed her in the car if I need to (although not while it was moving!). Even at night, Eve wakes up for her feed, I attach her while lying down and fall asleep until she finishes - all in the dark. No faffing with heating or mixing.

But, most of all, I have loved the closeness that it brings. She now has a habit of gazing up at me while she munches away and it is a lovely time, just the two of us. I also find it amazing, and something of which I am increasingly proud, that this fat little happy bundle has been entirely sustained by me. She has, quite literally, got her fat thighs from me.

So, it is with some regret that I realise that in one months time I will feed her less, that over the next few months she will move more and more onto solids. While many people I know have breastfed well into the first year, I have a bit of a personal icky thing about breastfeeding someone who is mobile, so I suspect I will stop in a couple of months. I had thought, many months back when breastfeeding was so time consuming and hard, that this would make me happy. I can, after all, start running again. But, surprisingly, it makes me very sad that I will stop.

Although the mummy daughter time will be replaced with me clearing up whatever food she throws on the floor, at the cat, and in my face.