You are the sucker. Yes, you. You were a proficient sucker the moment you were born. After you emerged and got kissed, weighed and all the what-nots, you were presented with the life-giving boobies you are all too familiar with now. Though it was your first meeting with them, you knew what you had to do instinctively. Men and mammary glands have that sort of connection perhaps. Ok, ok, you have stronger survival instincts compared to your sister who couldn’t latch properly till she was a month old.
But there you were. Barely an hour old, with mummy still recuperating at the recovery room after the c-section. You were doing so well the mid-wife and other nurses came to watch your marvellous performance, all lauding your ability to “suck so well”. Apparently, very few people want to latch their babies that early after delivery – you are a lucky little fella you know? 🙂
You had no qualms sharing your milk supply with your sis. That is good because you know, the-one-who-bullies-you-every-day-now is the reason why you had milk to drink the moment you were born – your sis continued to take mummy’s milk all the time that you were taking your time to grow inside.
You started off really well, sleeping through a stretch of 5-6 hours in the second month and gave mommy some peace and uninterrupted sleep for a few months. And then we shifted and you decided that you would start growing teeth all at the same time and you just had to get mommy’s boobs to keep you company at night when you couldn’t sleep properly. Trudging over to pick you up and put you back in your cot a few times a night is just too much for mommy, and you know it. That must have been your ploy – to get to co-sleep with us every night after your first middle-of-the-night summon to pick you up. I know that Sealy Posturepedic is much more comfortable than your foam mattress, and that is why you cry every night an hour or two into your sleep in your cot. Who can fault you, the discerning one? But try not to get too used to it, ok?
On and off, you didn’t do your job properly and caused blocked ducts, which is really very painful by the way. And I really think that I’d rather eat cabbage the way that normal people do rather than have them on my body. But there was this once I just couldn’t blame you because you were so ill with bronchiolitis and you had difficulty latching on to drink. Not blaming you didn’t solve the problem of blocked ducts of course. Fortunately, your sister came to the rescue though she had already given up the privilege of drinking from mommy.
You know, I just have to tell you that I love to watch you while you drink milk, that innocent but cheeky little face waving your hands around – that’s before you drift off to lala-land – and how you would try to trap my hand between your armpit and body just to make sure that I stay next to you on the bed after you fall asleep. You do have rather sweaty armpits sometimes, though I’m glad they don’t smell half as bad as *ahem*, mine. I escape of course from your ‘clutches’ eventually, but I do love that feeling of being wanted and needed by your tiny little soul.
I know you hate the milk bottle and formula milk. Your daddy said that you might grow stronger if you took a little of formula but you flatly refuse, clamping down firmly on the teat. Nothing could change your heart and mind about it, even until now, after you have turned one.
How long are you going to continue to want mommy’s milk? Your sister went on for four years and it has been more than five years of booby-duty for me. But take your time to think about it, son. Mommy will be here for you till you decide that you have had enough milk – from me. Just try to cut me some slack at night, yah?