My daughter is 18 months old, and still happily nursing. We co-sleep, and she sleeps through the night. She gets up for her first nursing of the day at 5 AM, and this is the time I am talking about.
She barely wakes, just enough to move over to me and start nursing. In the wee hours of the early morning, I watch her as she nurses. I stroke her hair and think about when she was a newborn, and how much she has grown since then. I listen to her making little sounds of contentment, and I am so grateful that I am able to nurse her and provide such sweet happiness to her. Occasionally, she does wake up for a little while, and we play a little bit before she goes back to sleep.
This is how I wake up every day. I couldn’t think of a better alarm clock. Once Teresa is done, she rolls over and goes back to sleep, and I get up to prepare my husband’s lunch for the day. Teresa will get up later, and busy herself being a toddler, growing up. But every morning, for a little while, we have our time.
During the day, Teresa knows that she can come to me anytime, no matter what, to nurse. Sometimes that means 10 minutes, and sometimes it means 10 seconds. Whatever the duration, she gets what she needs: food, comfort, security, cuddle time with Mama. If she is upset and having trouble calming down, I simply lay down on the bed with her and nurse for however long she needs.
In the evening we have another little ritual. Maybe it is the result of entering the toddler years, or maybe Teresa just likes it, but every day at 5 PM we have an extended nursing session. I think it helps her to relax and unwind. I can always tell when she’s ready for it because she starts getting extra fussy, but after we’ve nursed, she’s happy again. This is another of my favorite times, because she so obviously enjoys it. She’ll stretch out, get comfortable, and play with my hair or face. The peace and contentment she exudes is beautiful to see.
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