"No one could give her such soothing and sensible consolation as this little three-month-old creature when he lay at her breast and she felt the movement of his lips and the snuffling of his tiny nose.” ~Leo TolstoyIt resonated with me because it took me back to a time when holding and nursing my little one was the greatest comfort I could find in a devastatingly difficult time.
My little Helen was 10 months old when my 16 year old brother died by suicide. Needless to say this turned my entire world upside down. And through that first, most difficult week between Jared's death and his funeral, I was so blessed to have the constant warmth and snuggles of such a sweet little girl. I clung to her and nursed her through those first hours as we met with the detectives. I held her close that night as I cried rather than slept and she nursed sweetly through the night. I wore her close in the sling, my back aching, through the viewing. Her presence provided comfort not only for me, but for many others. But for me, she was my life line.
Her constant presence and constant need for my milk, far from being a burden in that difficult time, gave me a reason to get through it. When all of the activity died down and everyone went home, and I left my parents home to return to "normal life," it was my children that helped me get out of bed each day. Both of my children needed me, but for my little Helen I was irreplaceable. No one else could give her the milk she wanted and needed. And it was such an easy need to fill. I just had to sit or lay down and snuggle a bundle of joy.