As I observe you stirring in your crib, attempting to drift back into slumber, I can’t help but ponder if you comprehend the significance of this night. This evening, I dressed you in your sleepsack, read you stories, and kissed you goodnight, just like every other night.
However, tonight marked the final time I would nurse you.
This moment has been gradually approaching as we’ve been reducing feedings, transitioning from an on-demand feeding schedule to designated morning, nap, and nighttime meals. Last weekend, you seamlessly let go of your naptime feed, with a little help from your dad’s distraction. This week, you even skipped your usual 5:15 a.m. feeding without the usual frantic gestures toward the glider. The morning feeding has been cut, although I still had to convince you with a sippy cup and some toast.
Last Thursday was a particularly memorable nursing session. With no distractions, I focused entirely on you, wanting to etch every detail into my memory. You took my hand, as you often do, and played your little game of lifting my hand for kisses, erupting into giggles each time.
I decided that tonight would be the final nursing session because it felt right. You’ve become increasingly independent and have shown a preference for sippy cups and cuddles over breastfeeding.
As the evening progressed, anxiety began to creep in. I felt overwhelmed at the thought of this being our last shared experience — a bond unique to us for the past 16 months.
That’s right, 16 months — a total of 509 days.
These days encapsulated a special connection that was unlike anything else in your life. We experienced struggles, joys, tenderness, and even pain. I faced plugged ducts and mastitis, worked through low milk supply, and spent countless nights nursing you, growing to feel confident enough to nurse you in public, whether at restaurants or while shopping.
While we sat together tonight, memories flooded my mind. I recalled the very first time you were placed on my chest and how exhilarating it felt when you latched on. I remembered the challenges of juggling tasks while holding you close, and those early weeks when your newfound teeth turned nursing into a new adventure.
As we spent our final nursing session together, I found a sense of calm. I felt grateful for the journey we’ve taken together, knowing that many women are unable to experience what I have.
I secretly hoped you would fall asleep nursing, as you often did during earlier months. But tonight, I recognized that you were restless and unable to relax enough to sleep. I realized that I needed to take the step to end this chapter of our journey.
When I finally pulled you away, you snuggled close and drifted off. Tears streamed down my face as I realized this was truly it.
Tomorrow, you will wake up and likely point to the glider, asking for more. I’ll distract you with toast, counting down the hours until bedtime. I’m uncertain how you will react, and while part of me hopes you understood, my heart fears the tears that may come when you express your frustration.
But this moment is not about blame; rather, it’s a celebration of our beautiful, exhausting, and unique bond. These 16 months have offered me the privilege of being your sole source of nourishment and comfort. So, while tonight was our last nursing session, my love for you will continue to grow as we navigate this new phase together.
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In summary, this poignant farewell to nursing symbolizes not just the end of a phase but the continuation of a profound love that will endure beyond this experience.