After a bit of a rough start with breastfeeding due to a psychologically traumatic birth, baby and I figured it out together and it became beautiful. It’s one of my favourite parts of mothering her, watching her precious face, feeling her heartbeat against my chest, seeing her eyes gaze into mine with such love as she drinks, and experiencing my body continuing its journey of cultivating her life. I have overcome some very hard things in life, causing severe disassociative-type PTSD, which has been heightened since birth. Sometimes my sweet girl becomes distressed while we drive, and it in turn distresses me and we both end up in tears. I’ve spent many hours parked on the side of the road, snuggling and feeding her until we calm down again. If my husband is with us, I’ll run around the car into the seat beside her and breastfeed her over the side of the carseat. Nothing is more important to me in that moment than taking the time to stop and comfort her.
