On Weaning

My Little Mister and I shared our last nursing session last Sunday night. It was time for us. As the wee one gained enthusiasm for "real" food and solids replaced liquids, nursing had become not much more than a ritual - one that often left Little Mister wanting more to drink anyhow. Still, the process of weaning was hard for me this time. Perhaps this is because I have no thoughts of having another child right now, and maybe ever. Some is also because - and this may sound strange - I sacrificed so much of my own life as I knew it to nurse him well (I gave up all foods with any amount of soy, milk, or nut ingredients). My own nutritional habits became about choosing foods that fed our bodies rather than merely please them, about eating to sustain life. And this became a part of my own ritual in nourishing my baby. I know I definitely had a hard time because this Little One was such an enjoyable nurser. He was gentle. He snuggled. We'd exchange giggles as he played with my mouth and nose while he drank. He quietly demanded attention, biting me if I lost focus on our time together. Nursing Little Mister was intimate. I guess I was afraid to let that go.

Needless to say, this week was a wee bit emotional for me, especially in the nighttime. I even dreamed one night that Little Mister was a gigantic baby, dwarfing everyone in the room we were in (he is pretty large for his age, and growing so fast!). But I need not have worried that my connection with the babe would be broken. On Monday night, as he drank his "milk" from his sippy cup and I rocked him in his room, he stopped periodically to giggle at me. He'd catch my eye and his own would sparkle, the corners of his drooly mouth turning upward. When he had finished drinking, he did exactly as he's done every single night before that and he nuzzled right into my chest, tucking in his arms, and closing his eyes.

I know, of course, that Little Mister and I will forever be connected. But as he grows, that connection will become less physical- moving steadily away from the umbilical cord and breast- and more emotional. And it will take work. But for us, I know that the foundation has been laid. We've already put in 10 intense months of work at getting to know one another's rhythms, likes and dislikes, physical and emotional needs. It is a foundation that I am eager and committed to building on, even as my gigantic baby becomes his own physical being who can crawl, and eventually walk away. These nighttimes are a reminder that we can and will come back to the earthy, innate connection that is the gift of being mother and child.