A Breastfeeding Conclusion

"You never know when it will be your last time, until it's already done.  One day, you'll pick up your child, hold her, put her down, and you'll never pick her up again.  She'll grow up and you won't even realize it."

That's how the end of two years of nursing came to be.

Last Saturday, when she woke up, she cried to nurse just like she has every single morning after waking up for her whole life.  She nursed, just a quick session, because she was eager to get to her books.  Our latest routine had been nursing plus books every time before bed and every time she wakes up.

We left for Ludington for a wonderful Christmas holiday the next day.  Somehow, in all the business and excitement, she didn't ask to nurse.

I didn't remind her, I didn't offer her, and she didn't ask.

When we got home, back into routine, she did ask to nurse before bed.  I told her "mama's milk is all gone, empty."
She said, "Let's try!"
I said, "sorry, honey, it's all gone."

And luckily, I was prepared with a book that had just arrived in the mail: "Mama's Milk is All Gone".  We read it a few times yesterday, and a few more times today, and she hasn't asked to nurse since.


In the very beginning, I knew I wanted to nurse, I even took a course on breastfeeding, but immediately after she was born, the pain from breastfeeding was so terrible. I never thought I could nurse her past one month.  That first month was so excruciatingly painful.  But I knew it was good for her.  I knew there was nothing better to nourish her with than my own milk. I knew the closeness would be such a good bonding experience for us, even though at the time I counted down the seconds until she was done each session.

Then, the months passed and the pain went away.  Nursing no longer was painful.  It became such a special, precious time for Grace and me.

Pumping while I was at work or otherwise away from her was not easy.  Washing bottles, washing pump parts, always keeping track of each pump part and all the bottle parts.  Pumping is terrible.  But, it kept up my supply, and helped me to keep nursing.


Then she turned one year old.  She no longer needed to nurse.  It was now more about comfort and bonding.  And suddenly, I felt I also no longer had all the positive support I had from others that I had had in the beginning.

But we kept on.  We kept on for the whole second year.
She learned to ask for nursing.  First by saying "laddle laddle laddle" at some point around 13 months.  Then later (maybe around 16 months), she started saying "murse".  And around 19 months, she'd just say the word "nurse".  And before she turned two, she would say "I want to nurse, Mommy!"

And then, at 24 months old, the last time happened, and I didn't even know it was our last time until a few days later.

I'm proud of myself for nursing her for two full years.
But I'm proud of her, too.  I'm proud of her for accepting this.  For realizing that she's growing up, getting bigger, and accepting it.

She is my big girl and I am so proud of both of us.  I could not love her any more.