I am typing with one hand because the baby is nursing on my lap as I write. He nurses a lot. Sometimes I feel like a human I.V. Still, I absolutely love being a nursing mother. He is downloading my heart, along with my milk.
Whatever I eat, he will be getting a version of later; I had oatmeal and honey for breakfast, so today, he's getting a hot oatmeal milkshake. I hope he likes it. He hasn't tasted formula, food or anything but my milk in his four-and-a-half months of life. Yet he is huge, and he is very fat!
It's a strange and miraculous thing to nurse a baby. How can human bodies --mothers' and babies'-- work together so perfectly, both before and after birth? The creativity and intelligence of God's designs floor me.
I love being able to snuggle and soothe my baby with the milkshake produced in my body. I'll be sad when this intimate time of nursing is over, because this is my last child, and there is nothing else to compare to nursing a baby.
Whatever I eat, he will be getting a version of later; I had oatmeal and honey for breakfast, so today, he's getting a hot oatmeal milkshake. I hope he likes it. He hasn't tasted formula, food or anything but my milk in his four-and-a-half months of life. Yet he is huge, and he is very fat!
It's a strange and miraculous thing to nurse a baby. How can human bodies --mothers' and babies'-- work together so perfectly, both before and after birth? The creativity and intelligence of God's designs floor me.
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