I’m occasionally asked what surprised me most during the postpartum period. I don’t need to think twice; it was the experience of nursing my baby. Breastfeeding has been the most simultaneously beautiful and challenging responsibility of my life, and nothing could have prepared me for that realization.

I was lucky. I wanted to breastfeed, and it has (mostly) worked out. I also want to note that there are women who aren’t physically able to breastfeed their babies, or who choose to provide nutrient-rich formula in place of/to supplement breast milk, and I’m not about to judge anyone’s situation. (I myself began supplementing some breastfeeds with formula a few months ago for my own reasons.)

Before Baby Ell, my desire to breastfeed was based solely on its incredible immune-boosting benefits, as well as a bit of curiosity. You see, my mom chose not to breastfeed me or my brother. Her decision was influenced by taboo. She says “no one was breastfeeding in the 80s.” (I think what she really meant is that no one in her small town was breastfeeding in the 80s.) Even so, I turned out just fine.

Today marks the close of World Breastfeeding Week, and it’s safe to say there has never been a greater abundance of facts and statistics to support the value of breast milk. I’d read the literature and could rhyme off the key messages by the time I went into labour (mostly to avoid a lecture on breastfeeding by every nurse who came on shift).

The thing is, no one can tell you what your personal experience of breastfeeding will be like. It’s for this reason that I’m not comfortable dispensing advice. Instead, here’s what surprised and amazed me about breastfeeding my baby:

It took practice.

Jey and I attended a breastfeeding class while I was pregnant, but it wasn’t the class that helped me once Baby Ell was in my arms. It was the 1-to-1 support at our hospital’s Breastfeeding Clinic that put things right when I feared that newborn Baby Ell wasn’t getting enough milk. I realized that, despite all the language out there that implies breastfeeding is instinctual, the technique still needs to be learned by both mom and baby. With the right teachers, I was able to practice how to hold Baby Ell so he could achieve the best latch. (And they assured me he was likely getting enough milk the whole time anyway.)

It was dehydrating.

I’m talking about seriously unquenchable thirst. Friends advised me to drink a tall glass of water every time I nursed, but even that wasn’t enough for me. Although the sensation of being perpetually parched had righted itself by the time Baby Ell was 4 months old, my sensitive face remains dry and irritated even on humid summer days.

My body provided exactly what my baby needed, even when I thought I was failing.

Breastfeeding works on a supply-and-demand system. The more baby wants, the more baby gets – even if you’re relying on just one boob. Yep! For some reason, my right breast didn’t develop into a breastfeeding breast the same way that my left one did (this is quite common, according to my doctor), and Baby Ell eventually lost patience—and demand—for the right. I decided to wean him off the right side altogether and began nursing exclusively on my left when he was 4 months old. He’s always been able to get what he needs from the one source. It means I appear asymmetrical without a padded bra, but this conveniently leads me to my next point…

It’s made me less self-conscious.

I was the teen who waited until the gym locker room was empty before changing. I don’t think about what other people *might* think about my body anymore. It’s an amazing machine. It’s a life-giver. And my baby’s wellbeing is my first priority. Whenever I would breastfeed in public (sometimes with a nursing cover, and sometimes with my shirt providing minimal coverage), I found that the vast majority of people either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Those who do, don’t matter. Nursing moms are too smart to be shamed.

It’s made me physically stronger than I’ve ever been.

The first 12 weeks of breastfeeding felt like a muscle-shredding chore. I blame this partly on not having an upper-body workout regimen prior to getting pregnant (note: pregnancy is not the time to start a workout regimen). I also have scoliosis or spine curvature, which makes me imbalanced and causes fatigue in my back and hip. Nursing exclusively on my left side has exacerbated this, but I’m mostly excited about the fact that I have rock-solid biceps for the first time – and I can sling a shopping basket like nobody’s business!

I’m convinced that breastfeeding supports the most beautiful bond on earth.

I didn’t give the bonding aspect a whole lot of thought before Baby Ell was born. It’s all just words until it’s experienced. Terrible things are happening in the world, and it’s hard not to spend time thinking about it all. The quiet minutes spent nursing Baby Ell are his and mine alone – defined by a purity and loveliness that was designed by God and cannot be tainted. I will always remember the first time Jey was able to feed Baby Ell a bottle, when Ell was 5 months old. Jey smiled at me with his eyes shining and whispered, “I’m feeding our baby.”

My heart aches a little as I write this post, because I know that my time breastfeeding Baby Ell will draw to a close. He’s down to 2 breastfeeds a day now. I haven’t planned the timing. It’s probably best that way…to let it go when it feels right. I know I’ll shed tears over it, just as I’ll likely shed tears over every major milestone in his life.

For now, I’ll continue to treasure every moment of nursing my baby. Not so long ago, one feed took 40 minutes. Then it was 20 minutes. Now it’s barely 10. But one thing remains the same: I know I’m providing him with the comfort, nutrition and antibodies he needs to be an awesome little guy.

*Image credit: pabIo via Visualhunt / CC BY-NC-ND