Weaning has been rough on me...

I thought I was weaning my son but truth is, I'm weaning myself. It was harder on me than it was on him I think. It still is hard. He's my last baby. Before him I was usually pregnant when I weaned and I knew there would be another sweet baby to come and watch grow. There's something about nursing. When I was young and naive I looked upon it even as a gross thing. Almost a perverse thing. But when I had children of my own I realized how ignorant that was. What a special and unique bond it is. God knew what he was doing. He creates hormones to both make baby happy and content to stay still & mama too. It's a strong bonding experience. On a lighter note, it's almost equivalent to that first buzz you get if you ever had drinking days. Everything is right with the world. On top of all that you get the satisfaction of knowing you are sustaining life. By yourself. I always thought that was a blessing and confidence booster! I can honestly say 75% or more of my nursing days were enjoyable once I got past the social mores of the world and became confident in the beautiful thing is really is.

When I had my first son 10 years ago I was embarrassed by breastfeeding, even resentful of it because it took me away from everyone. I went into the bathroom in public, dressing rooms, I isolated myself in other peoples homes. By the time my daughter was born I was more confident and nowadays I can nurse like MacGyver - just give me a blanket & my teeth - I don't need any stinkin' hands. LOL And you wouldn't even know what was going on. ;-)

So, it's been a journey for me, 5 children, almost 8 years long (I didn't start extended nursing until my 4th child). I've grown so much, I've been pregnant, with newborn, going to school, teaching school, but I've always been nursing. It's been part of who I am, what I'm used to. But, I recognized that for baby T and I it had become a dependency issue. And I didn't enjoy being just his food supply. He was actually rude to me unless I was feeding at times. And then he started gorging himself and making himself sick. So, it was definately time. And it was definately harder on me than it was on him. He's already stopped asking. Which partly makes me want to cry and partly makes me proud. It's bittersweet.

I think while I'm really reflecting here I'm realizing it's the first huge step for me of the process of letting go. I know there are going to be harder steps in the future. I just hope I always can be selfless enough to look past my own emotions and put my children first. When we're not mutually benefitting anymore from something it's time to let it go. Am I on to something older moms? Is it going to be this hard every step of the way?

Is it too late to say I don't think I'm qualified for the job? LOL

So anyway, all this to share a poem I wrote during what I call my grieving process. It's all just so final and I needed a way to express myself. Some of you may be able to relate.


If you fell down all I had to do,
was say one special word to you.
When it was late & sleepiness crept in,
One word and out came that sweet drowsy grin.
On those wee morning hours with just you and I,
That word always made you happily sigh.
Cold afternoons just before you would nap,
One word brought warmth and rest with a snap.
I will always cherish these moments, my beautiful son,
The moments you called on with the word "mum".
This chapter may be over in both of our lives,
But I will always remember & treasure, your sweet nursing eyes.