Yamaguchi's Weaning Journey: A Tale of Persistence and Precious Keepsakes
Greetings, it's been some time since we last connected. Recently, I received a special piece of breast milk jewelry that has brought back a flood of cherished memories from my motherhood journey. Today, I'd like to share my story, one that revolves around the act of breastfeeding.
After the birth of my child, I found myself struggling to feel content with my role as a mother. I grappled with repetitive reassurance behaviors and experienced a resurgence of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). It was an issue I had sought help for even before pregnancy, thinking I had it under control. However, pregnancy, childbirth, and the postpartum period brought it back with a vengeance.
Each day was riddled with anxiety, leading me to reluctantly seek professional help from a psychiatrist, who prescribed traditional Chinese medicine as part of my treatment. Given that I was exclusively breastfeeding, I had no choice but to rely on this medication. I grew frustrated with my lack of progress, battled thoughts of despair, and questioned whether discontinuing breastfeeding would jeopardize my child's health.
As my child continued to grow and explore their world, my feelings of helplessness intensified. I eventually made the difficult decision to wean my child and begin medication. The prospect of weaning brought forth a cascade of concerns: Could I endure my child's nighttime fussing alone? Would ceasing breastfeeding make my child more susceptible to illness? What if my child grew lonely and turned to thumb-sucking? My emotions were in turmoil, and I struggled to find clarity amid the chaos.
Originally, I had hoped to breastfeed until my child reached two years of age. If it weren't for my OCD, perhaps my child would have naturally weaned at their own pace. Why was I forcibly severing the cherished bond my child had with breastfeeding due to my personal issues? I couldn't help but feel like an inadequate mother. Would I never again witness that heartwarming sight of my child nursing? The more I dwelled on it, the deeper my sorrow became, and my tears seemed never-ending.
Then, a serendipitous memory surfaced—an Instagram post I had stumbled upon some time ago about breast milk jewelry. It dawned on me that this could be a way to preserve the connection between my son and me. With newfound determination, I committed to weaning and seeking treatment, and breast milk jewelry played a significant role in my journey.