Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Let 'em go

Hmmm, the theme of recent posts has not escaped my notice. My children are suddenly, yet all at once, maturing a little more rapidly than I would like. To add insult to injury, Leo has weaned.

Maggie at 22 months. Crazy snow that winter.


Maggie nursed until 22 months and devoted a significant amount of time to each feeding until near the end. Leo has never been as focused of a nurser, nursing for only a few minutes at a time for months now so I knew it would end sooner than it did with Maggie. And about a month ago at bedtime, instead of immediately nursing, Leo looked at me and then shook his head violently. It was a clear refusal but hard to believe. Nevertheless, I could not get him to nurse. This continued off and on for the last few weeks until it became consistent, and I quit trying. But he remained a dependable morning nurser (because I think it was a little something for his stomach before I could get breakfast ready) until a few days ago when the head shaking started in the morning, too.




I have loved nursing, loved it, and treasured it as the special connection only I will ever have with my children.





But I've let it go. We won't be having any more children, and now my boobs seem so...worthless. (Not to mention, miniscule.) A significant part of my anatomy is completely beyond use for the first time in my life, and I am grieving over it. The very best I can hope is that my breasts, ovaries, and uterus never give me any trouble, but they will never again be productive organs, and I can't help but feel a little less...womanly.

Leo at 17 months

 Every transition brings grief and joy. At least I am no longer on the nursing leash!

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