Im a woman. Just like you.
I still havent finish my studies, but Im already working. What about you ?
Ive got dreams. Some of them, I would like to carry out within a short period of time.
Others…some day who knows. What about you ?
My body is not exactly how I would like it to be. I wish I could have more of this an less of that.
What about you ?
Maybe some day I may wish to have a child. Or two.
He will be a desire child. I have this right. Actually, I have many rights. And you, too.
Im very careful as to sexual relationships, until I feel the desire of being a mother.
No, Im not in a hurry. Maybe after the 30s. What about you ?
And then, oh, yes, my body will become different.
My female body. A mammal body.
My womb growing, my breasts filling up with milk. Nature prevailing in spite of everything.
Maybe Ill be afraid. What about you ?
How will it be? Will I be able? When? How? So many questions…
My body generates another body. My baby. Ill manage to do it, Im sure.
During 9 months my body shelters a miracle.
My baby is born.
There is nothing more magnificent. Its cosmic.
But there is a second miracle: I generate more life.
Yes, I produce milk.
It is life for my baby.
I have difficulties to breastfeed.
How many times a day should I do it? In which position? For how long?
Do I have sufficient milk?
My baby cries. He cries all the time.
Is my milk weak? Is it bad?
Im so insecure… Is he hungry???
I need help!
I ask for help! A friend of mine who has already breastfed, helps me (guides me).
She tells me that there are also groups of mothers that help mothers like me.
I learn a lot from my friend.
My milk is prefect. It is absolutely perfect.
And for 6 months it is my babys only food. It has absolutely everything he needs.
While I breastfeed him, he stares at me.
His eyes inside my eyes are our world.
What a pleasure!
A pleasure…how can I define it?…a sum of all pleasures.
But I have to leave and go to work. What about you?
The day before I go back to work, I extract carefully my own milk and I keep it in the icebox.
While Im at work, the person who takes care of my baby offers him my milk in a small spoon,
I come back home after 12 hours work. Exhausted. Eager to meet him.
We recuperate our world, eyes to eyes. Pleasure, once again the re-encounter.
We give ourselves to the miracle. My baby breastfeeds and sleeps.
The days pass…
My milk is still his only nourishment. And after the first 6 months?
My baby is already able to sit down.
And so, little by little, I offer him the same food I eat at home.
My own milk and food.
Until when? One year? Two, three?
It’s our decision. Mine and his.
We are growing up. As mother and baby.
We feel it is time for weaning.
We make a deal. And, calmly, we come to the end of a phase.
A phase that will guide his future steps.
A phase that allowed me to enjoy one of the most complete experience that a woman can live.