Dear Daughter,

Ramping up to your six month growth spurt, I don’t remember how many times we’ve nursed today. I don’t count. I have not counted in a long time, since sometime after your oldest brother was born. (Excluding the little checkboxes that kept me company at the hospital and that drove me nuts as I had to keep finding my phone to get the times when you started and stopped and started again.)

At every doctor’s visit I’m asked how many times you nurse. I say “on demand” and I’m asked for a number.  Do people really count those things? I remember that I nursed you for a half hour when we woke up because I set my alarm so that I can nurse you before I get your oldest brother up for school. I remember that I was nursing you on the floor of the laundry room while I loaded the washer. I know that I nursed you outside while I pushed your brother on the swing but I’m not sure if that counted because you got excited and bit me pretty quickly because you wanted to grab at a moth that flittered by to land on the morning glories overhead. I nursed you at lunch while you tried to grab all my food. I also nursed you a bunch of other times doing all the things that I do all day and every day.

I’m not sure what would happen if I started counting. Would I find it depressing and become concerned about my supply if I found that you nursed fifteen times per day? Would I become paranoid and make you nurse more if you inexplicably only nursed six times a day? Would I be worried if the numbers went up or down by a few times per day?

I go by the brown wetbag hanging upstairs. Each day your diapers fill this bag and make it heavy. Each day the moses basket with all your clean diapers empties itself as you work your way through the supply. Every two days I load the washing machine with your brother’s diapers and yours, and I wash them clean.

I don’t count the number of times I kiss you. I don’t count the number of times that I tell you that I love you. I don’t count the number of times that I tickle you, or sniff your head. But I understand that we are well bonded and that you are firmly attached to me as you recognize me when speak, soothe when I dance with you, and root around to find me when you wake in the dark of the night. Because you squeak only when I’m not there and do not launch instantly into wailing, and your squeaking calms as soon as you are in my arms before you start to nurse.

Numbers like that are for other things and fit poorly into breastfeeding. Breastfeeding is one of those things that is easiest if you simply do it the same way you breathe. Because it is necessary, it is normal, it is automatic, and because you live attached to me in these early days of your life.

Six to eight times would not be enough if I was refusing you when you asked. Fifteen times cannot be too much if it is what you need. We’re not coloring by the numbers, we’re living by your needs.

❤ Mama