These are the words that would go with this face, if she knew what I am contemplating:
I am about to wean her from breastfeeding. Half by choice, and half by circumstance, and 100% a big deal for both of us.
It's just happening naturally, between her sleeping through the night, mornings getting crazier, needing to put her down before the older kids go to bed, having her at daycare three days a week...the opportunities for regular feeding times have dwindled. Yesterday, I did not breastfeed her at all; that was a first. It just happened that way.
I am mourning a little bit about this; I will miss her little warm body curled around my middle, her little fists beating my chest to make the milk flow faster, her sweaty head growing heavy with sleep crooked in my arm. I'll miss the sound of her little gulps. I'll miss the feeling of the milk flowing out of me and into her. I will, in short, miss having a baby. It seems that once they stop breastfeeding, they start growing up with alarming speed. She'll walk one of these days, and she won't stop walking until she's walked right out of the house, never to return. She'll talk soon, and someday will use her words to curse me high and low.
From the day she was conceived, she has been growing away from me. Choosing to stop breastfeeding is like saying: "OK world, she's yours!"
Well, perhaps that's a bit dramatic. Suffice to say it's a moment for pause and a moment for reflection.
reflect reflect reflect
The bright side? NO MORE NURSING BRAS!