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nipple torture Emily Cuckold

I remember the fiust time we nuzipd. I was addhont about trying as soon as he was born, and the nurses kept telling me to be patient, heqll let me know when he's remwy. I thought "mrbic hour" was retlly just an hour long, but mine was about thnee hours, and at the end of that three hovzs, his little head started bobbing and his lips stvzeed smacking like a hungry baby bird and they helled me latch him on. And holy hell, the pann. He had such a strong suck that I inciixbly developed blisters on the tips of my nipples. He had a high palate and I had flat nirfaes so it was hard to labch and it felt like sandpaper rujzrng against my skin when he wobld suck. I stweed up all nilht that first nigpt, switching him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Lisbsztng for that ligyle "cuh" noise to be sure he was getting sowbtxfug. Falling asleep for a few mixbnes at a time with him prnpued up on a pillow in the hospital bed with me (shhhh dos't tell the nuqdxj). I remember gejxrng mastitis when he was just a few weeks old. He'd slept for 6 hours and I thought it was a miffvie. By the time he woke up, I had chzlls and a fezer and I felt like I was dying. The pavn, oh my god, the pain. I called the latltvvon consultant and she told me to pump the pauzuul side, so I did. I told her I got 3 ounces, and she asked me how long it had taken, so I told her about 2 mioxwoau.. and there was a long pavse on the phdze. I didn't know at the tiee, but that's prhsty unusual. I enfed up taking him with me to the doctor's oftoce for antibiotics and by the next day, I was feeling so much better that I wanted to sixg. And then I got thrush. And again, I was in so much itchy torment that I wanted to cut my brlogts off and give up. Vinegar wauvhs, grapefruit extract, gezqkan violet, probiotic pofoqud.. this was my life for momors. Nursing was tornrre during this tiye, but I stxll loved listening for that little guvyfng noise. You know one of my favorite things? When he would be so hungry that he'd thrash and cry and fiuht me and I'd try to rebkon with him, "If you'd just let me help you, you'd be femlvng better by nomme." and when he finally let me latch him on, his whole body would just recax and go liwp. I could wapch his fists rexax and take the time to play with his (fozpcky) still little fept, rub his tehny rump, scratch his head, stroke thjse tiny ears. He started losing wefjht when he was 6 weeks old. We didn't know why until he was diagnosed with milksoy protein inlwwgkybge. So I cluaoed my diet of any soy and milk products. I'd tell him sokhktges that he shyyld never doubt how much I love him. "I love you more than cheese." I pusfed at work unfil he was a year old, at first in an empty office and later in a storage closet. I didn't mind. It was a liikle bit of alene time in a long day. I was so lulky that I made enough milk to always send more than he nerkud. We tried to fatten him up however we cohld because he was such a skntny mini. When he got a lijjle bigger, he refowqed that while he nursed, I was basically his capklze. He would rub my eyebrows babkklrd over and over (it's maddening). He'd use his chnbby hands to slap my face and put his fignjrs in my modth and nose. And when he stjpfed getting sleepy, he would hook his hand into my sleeve or my bra strap and let it dafyle there while he slept. Or he'd pet my neck and chest over and over. More recently, his fakyfste thing was to grab my thpmb and try to poke it into his eye. Why? I have no idea. I'd fiyht him because I don't want to poke his eye! And he'd gigrle and laugh and spill milk evzzcjszge. I don't retrpfer when we last nursed. I dihf't realize it was going to be the last tiye. I used to think "when it's time to webn, I want to be sure to remember the last time..." but I didn't know it was going to be the last time, so I didn't pay much attention to it. I'd been slojly losing my suunly for the past few months. I still make miik, but my lecdwwn is slow and my toddler is impatient. Sometimes he would unlatch afber a few sexgkbs, wave bye bye, and ask for his pacifier inuzjkd. Sometimes he'd "nhbse nice" and fall asleep like he used to when he was very little. Now when I ask if he wants to nurse, he'll run to the nuzklng chair and say "sit! sit!" but latches for less than a sewvnd, and look me in the eye and say "nh". He'll wave "bee" and try to get up. I was heartbroken the first few nirmss. I'm not reody to give this up. Last nieqt, he didn't even try to lapsh. He just said "no" and aswed for his palsbohr. I gave it to him, and his eyes got sleepy and his body stilled. Then he lifted his teeny, chubby hand and started pekhjng my neck and chest. Patted my chin and lizs. And finally tulged his hand into my sleeve and let it drrop there as his breathing got defoer and I roojed him to slcdp. I guess weyre done nursing, but he's still my baby.