5-31-15  All good things must come to an end...

Anthony is now 20 months old, and I am still breastfeeding him.  I guess I should note here for those who are not familiar:  I believe in extended breastfeeding.  In the first 6 months of breastfeeding, you are so focused on making sure your baby is getting enough to eat, that sometimes it feels a little utilitarian.  Don't get me wrong, it is an incredible bonding experience.  But once your babe moves on to solid foods, nursing becomes a much more emotional experience.  Those are some of the best times.  It becomes more a of a parenting style...  Its a way to connect and soothe your child. I nursed Colette until 2 months past her 2nd birthday, and only stopped because I was diagnosed with Lyme Disease and was starting an intense antibiotic regiment.

So here I am with Anthony.  And I figured that since he is my last baby, I was just going to nurse him until he was ready.  And he seems to love nursing.  A lot.  He is an active kid...always racing about.  But he stops in periodically throughout the day to nurse for a few seconds here and there.  Its like he's checking in.  He will climb up on my lap and paw at my shirt saying, "This!  This!"  Most of the time, its endearing and incredibly adorable.  Sometimes, I'm like, "Give me a break!"

When I learned that I had a BRCA1 mutation, I knew that our days of nursing were numbered.  I slowly came to terms with it, but figured we'd keep going until I had a surgery date on the books.  So imagine my dismay when I met with the breast surgeon and she told me that my mastectomy couldn't happen until I had stopped breastfeeding for at least FOUR MONTHS!  And not only that, the MRI had the day before was worthless, because they can't see squat!  I was crushed.  A wave of overwhelming sadness washed over me.  I knew I would have to stop, but hearing it out loud was just like getting hit with a truck.  I don't know if its that it made my mastectomy all that more real, or if I was just realizing how much I loved breastfeeding.

I came home from the surgeon's office and wept.  And then I got frantic.  I want to have this surgery as soon as possible, because really, I want all of this to be in my rearview mirror.  But also, I already met my insurance deductible this year, so I want to get it done in this calendar year.  I was hoping to have surgery this summer because it is when I have access to the most support.  This whole four months crap was throwing a monkey wrench in my plan.  But also, it meant that I really needed to get on weaning!

So here I am in the midst of that.  Tonight was the first night I put Anthony to bed without nursing him.  He did okay.  He still cries when I tell him no and says, "Want it!  Want it!" And I say to him, "I know, Buddy...me too!" and try to hold him tight.  Its painful emotionally.  And its no cake walk physically either.  I'm drinking ridiculous amounts of sage tea to try and get my milk to dry up.  I even resorted to Sudafed (which is why I am wide awake typing this instead of sleeping!)

I think my biggest fear is that he won't snuggle with me after we stop nursing.  I am going to miss laying in bed with him in the early morning and nursing.  I get to have him right there, laying on my chest.  We look at each other and he usually reaches out and grabs my nose, or points to my eyes, and occasionally unlatches to say, "eyes.  nose.  hair." or to give me a huge grin.  I think I am mourning the loss of that special time.  And also...knowing that after surgery I will have a huge loss of sensation.  I was never really a boob person.  My breasts always were just things there that got in the way.  I never wore low-cut shirts or wore push-up bras.  I could really take them or leave them.  Until I became a mother.  My breasts are what fed and nurtured my two children.  My chest has been a place of comfort to them both.  And I'm sad that has to come to an end.  Its funny...the thing that has been so central to my mothering is also the thing that could potentially kill me.

As I have talked to family, friends and others....not many people have really understood my emotions around this.  I get a lot of comments like, "He's gotten all the benefits of breastfeeding."  and "He'll be okay.  He has to stop sometime anyway."  I know these things.  But none of this addresses how I feel about it.  I don't think anyone who hasn't breastfed their children beyond a year can really understand how deep a bond it is.

So we are working bit by bit to cut back.  And I'm trying to savor every last moment of it.  We have cut WAY back.  The first couple days, he cried and cried...not understanding why I was refusing him.  It was painful and I felt terrible.  But he's adjusting and is more and more easily distracted from it.  I have come to terms with the fact that my mastectomy won't happen until the fall.  I am focusing now on scheduling my other surgery.  I figure I can at least deal with the lower half first.  I want to feel like I am making steps toward lowering my risks.  I am meeting with the gyn-onc surgeon on Tuesday.  Hopefully we can schedule my surgery, and I can start preparing for that.  The recovery should be much quicker than for the mastectomy, so I should still be able to have a decent summer!

All these crazy things.