Breastfeeding: The Twelve Month Event Horizon
This is the second post in my breastfeeding series.
Black holes are objects so massive that nothing, not even light can escape them. The so-called “event horizon” marks the boundary around the black hole; cross this event horizon and there is no turning back.
As a space traveler crossing into this event horizon, you’d notice nothing at that no-turning-back point. One instant, no different from the next, floating through the abyss. Crossing the event horizon there’s nothing about you or your surroundings which has changed. But existentially, at this point in time, there’s no escape from your trajectory: into the black hole, it is, whether you take time to reflect on it or not.
The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that breastfeeding continue for at least 12 months, and thereafter for as long as mother and baby desire. The World Health Organization recommends continued breastfeeding up to two years of age and beyond.
If the black hole is weaning — stopping breastfeeding — it’s clear that my baby and I have crossed the event horizon at their year mark. Weaning will happen. I won’t be nursing an eighteen-year-old, after all. And yet in crossing this event horizon, moving from the twelfth month of breastfeeding into the thirteenth, nothing about me, my baby, or my surroundings changed. This month of our journey I had two realizations: I knew that we were in this breastfeeding journey together for a long time, and simultaneously that I had to come to terms with the fact of the, as of now, slow decent into this journey’s end. This part of my identity as a mother would inevitably leave me to blossom into other joys as my toddler grows.
Society moves quickly from “why aren’t you breastfeeding?” to “why are you still breastfeeding”? in the same way it moves from “why are you pregnant ?— you’re too young” to “why aren’t you pregnant yet? — you’re getting old”: sharply and misogynistically, not leaving so much as a day’s demilitarized zone of time in which to reserve judgement on women. I was reluctant in sharing my breastfeeding thoughts realtime leading up to the one year mark, what if I don’t make it? I thought, or what if I say something, that later turns out to be incomplete or untrue?
During the thirteenth month of breastfeeding I wrote a massive post in celebration of my first twelve months of breastfeeding. With that goalpost out of the way, felt I could just enjoy and reflect as my baby grows. Since many accounts of breastfeeding I read ended at the twelfth month I expected some sort of tectonic shift at the one year mark, and instead experienced just another month of the ebb and flow of my life and the life of my now toddler. With this new series I hope to do a month by month reflection to raise awareness to those who continue beyond that artificial 12 month horizon and also recognize that no matter how long a breastfeeding mother chooses to breastfeed, we all will reach the end of this journey one day. This series is a chronicle of that end.
This, thirteenth month, we travelled to Ohio to visit family to celebrate Yosemite’s first birthday. Then, on our return, Yosemite moved into their own room. This went well for the first stretch of sleep, but soon we discovered Yosemite knew we’d leave them after and would increasingly stir and complain if we weren’t there throughout the entire falling asleep section. The first night my husband set up a thermal camera so we could track the baby. Halfway through the night he spotted me falling asleep next to the baby falling asleep.
We also decided to shake up our nighttime routine and have me not nurse Yosemite to sleep at the end, but rather nurse at the beginning of the routine and have my husband put the baby to sleep. I’m still waking up 2–3 times per night to nurse the baby, and bought a series of books entitled “The no-cry sleep solution.” While I’d love it if my baby slept more (letting me sleep more!) I’m unwilling and unable to ignore my motherly instincts of helping my baby when they ask and recognize that since we are separated most of the day, I treasure every time we can connect after work and this period will seem short lived in retrospect. I wanted more sleep but I didn’t want to lose 50% of our breastfeeding sessions. This shake up of our nightly routine worked for some nights, and Yosemite had some 6 hour stretches of sleep, but when Yosemite got sick with croup we were back to square one.
After the first month of breastfeeding Yosemite would typically want just one breast at a feeding. Around month 12 Yosemite began requesting both breasts at most feedings.
This month we went diving twice as I started to complete my master scuba diving certification. The first time we had a nanny care for the baby and I pumped in between dives. The second time our nanny canceled at the last minute and a brave friend came with us, the baby, our diving instructor onto a sunny island a few hours from our home to take care of the baby while we dived. I breastfed Yosemite in a wet suit!
I officially dropped my noontime pumping session when I couldn’t or didn’t visit Yoz at lunch and started visiting Yosemite a bit less often at daycare at lunch during workdays. This reduced my work day pumping sessions to just one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I found this month Yosemite less interested in nursing at lunch, and only every few weeks would Yoz display interest. I visited just 2–3 days per week and about halfway through the month instructed the staff to on the days I visited no longer delay Yosemite’s food lunch (previously I had requested they wait until after I nurse), on my account. Yosemite still displayed much interest in nursing before and after daycare. One day I visited at 2pm and Yosemite nursed very well. Perhaps lunchtime was just the wrong time for Yosemite who seemed more interested in food and toys then.
Due to perhaps the increased sleep hours, or my dropped noon pumping and nursing sessions, my period returned for the first time after birth. I ended up having to borrow a pad from another group supervisor at work. I hadn’t had my period for 783 days, my period tracker app explained.
The childcare asked if they could feed Yosemite breastmilk in an open cup at snack time when they feed the other babies cows milk and I thought that was a great idea. Yosemite did try cow’s milk for the first time this month, but I saw no sense in drinking milk made for cows like the other babies when I have plenty of milk made for human babies on hand. We also started increasing the size of bottles of breastmilk for Yosemite at daycare, from about 3 oz per bottle, to 4–5 oz per bottle. With my dropped pumping session, and the increased bottle sizes, I would produce about 3 bottles per day. Yosemite would typically drink 2–4. It didn’t seem like Yoz was out drinking my production, but with some wasted milk (Yoz might not finish a 5 oz bottle leading to several oz trashed), and this on top of the milk drank in open cups, sometimes we started dip into my vast freezer stash. I still haven’t cracked open the chest freezer which has about 350 oz (I think!). I did check on it in paranoia one day, it’s all still frozen.
When I crossed past the twelve-months-of-breastfeeding milestone I tried to move to an attitude where wasted breastmilk was not only ok, it was welcome, as it meant we were always offering Yosemite enough. Old habits die hard, however, and I would often find myself cringing at having to bring milk out from the freezer or at wasted milk.
My breastfeeding journey with Yosemite will slowly come to an end but I’m enjoying every day, and hope this post helps with increasing information and awareness of the norm of breastfeeding past 12 months!
