Weaning

My breastfeeding journey has come to an end. Today I feel relieved about it. I have more energy at work and at home. My life has gotten a lot easier. I’m not pumping on the way to and from work or taking a break in the middle of the day to pump. I’m not spending the time washing pump parts, packing a cooler, or bagging the milk. I did it for as long as I could manage. Then one day it felt clear to me that I was done with all of that.

My freezer stash is rapidly dwindling, down to the last 20ish ounces. When I get a glimpse of the bags I feel sad. Sad that our precious time together with you on my breast are gone. Sad that I’m no longer going to be providing you with the antibodies and nutrients that breast milk provides. Sad that when you have a cut on your face from your razor sharp nails that I can’t just dab a little breast milk on it to make it heal faster. Sad that your breath no longer has that sweet milky smell. Now you smell like formula. But you’re still my baby.

Now when I put you to bed I’m no longer nursing you to sleep. I hold you in my arms with a bottle and watch as you go from that blank stare to sweetly dozing off. You still touch my arm with your small hand. I’m still holding you close. I’m still your mommy, even though you are growing up so fast and needing mommy a lot less than before.

I wish I took more pictures of us nursing. I didn’t know how quickly that would all be over. We worked so hard to get it right, to boost my supply and to perfect your latch. I’m proud that we made it as far as we did, and I’m sad to say goodbye to it.

—By Anonymous