We all need those nipples to latch on to

I created a series of yearly events about my kids: their first words, first steps, first day going to pre-school, etc. The events show up each year in Google Calendar notification.

Today, it was this:

Whaaaat?! My daughter could not fall asleep by herself until she was 1.5 years old? And that first time, she was riding in a car and "accidentally" fell asleep alone. With no recollection, I asked myself: So, for one and half years, she didn't fall asleep in the car ride even once? She didn't soothe herself and fall asleep in her crib or bed even once? 

That sounds about right...

While my son was really easy on sleep, my daughter was the opposite. She cried all the time and required to be held and cuddled constantly. I guess we just held her whenever she wanted or cried, for the initial 4-5 years! She enjoyed some high privilege when she got a full-time mommy who stayed with her 24/7 for the first 6 full years of her life and a rotation of stay-in grandparents who cooked, cleaned, and played with her older brother.  

My daughter never used a pacifier, but she was really hard on sucking from the moment when she was born. Within half an hour, she right away opened her mouth and latched on my nipples, sucking them like she was born to do that. By then, my nipples had gotten used to the sucking. 

My son drank breastmilk for about 1 year and 3 months. In the first month, there was blood in his stool; the blood came from my torn nipples. Both nipples cracked open by the force of the sucking and had no time to heal. Each time he latched, which was every half to one hour, the pain pierced through my heart, and tears ran down my face. There was a deep wound on the tip of my nipples that took me months to heal. 

Thank Goddesses, my daughter was not the first child to suck on my virgin nipples. She is the kind of child who needs a pacifier 24/7; her mouth and tongue were constantly in the sucking motion. She sucked her thumb, and for the longest time, I was scared that her thumb might be deformed by the force of her suction. But I didn't give her a pacifier; it just never crossed my mind because I personally never experienced a pacifier with myself or any relatives I know, and my son never needed one; on top of that, I was afraid she might be too addicted and dependent to it even when she turned 7 or 8. 

Instead, I offered my nipples to pacify her. She sucked and chewed on them whenever she wanted. When we took naps together throughout the daytime, she was latching on my nipples for hours, even when she was in deep sleep. In the nights, she was in my arms and sucking nonstop. Her mouth would get loose after a few hours, but she would snuggle up, locate my nipples, and latch on them again. When she was a little older, like one year and a half, in the middle of the night, she would use her hands to make sure my nipples were available for her to continuously suck on. 

Today husband told me, "Your breasts are on the smaller side, but I truly love them; they are perfect for me." We were in the car watching a huge-breasted woman crossing the street. To which I replied, "Excuse me, Sir, who Is you to put my breasts into categories or give them a rating or ranking? My breasts were not made so men can rate them; keep those to yourself, please, sir. My breasts were gifted by Goddesses, so my children got to grow on them, physically and emotionally." And yes, for the five years since the pregnancy with my son, till my daughter was done breastfeeding, my breasts were huge. They were naturally blown up to size D+ and carried a significant amount of breastmilk; if more infants were to be fed, no infant would ever go hungry! And that, my dear, had absolutely nothing to do with men.

The intimate mother-daughter relationship tremendously nurtured my daughter. Her need for the suction motion was wholly satisfied, but more importantly, the satisfaction was built on the bedrock of a strong bond with her mother. The connection gave her an unbreakable sense of safety, confidence, self-worth, and love. Because of how healthy that was, she was easily weaned off my breastmilk when she turned two, with not much fuss and crying. And merely a few months later, she weaned herself off sucking her thumb too; her thumb later recovered from two years of damage to the skin. She grew out of the sucking phase at two years mark and never needed it anymore because she was emotionally well-nourished and ready.   

The same was true with her sleep. Like me, she has strong spiritual senses. Even when children sleep, they are receptive to the energy around them. Nobody knows what kind of energy is there, and sometimes, it sneaks into their dreams and spooks them. I slept with my daughter for the first six to seven years of her life; not even one night was she without me. I formed the habit of not falling deep asleep in my bed but waiting for that call from my daughter at around 1 or 2 am. I would jump out of my bed, run to her room, and snuggle with her until morning. Now, at 8, she has the soundest sleep throughout the night and the brightest personality, which was built on a completely full score of security, stability, and confidence. 

Ah, the golden fun times when my babies were babies...