And That's the End of That

For the past 4.5 years, I have been either pregnant, nursing or both. Since May 2005 I have had to think about everything I put in my body - food, medicine, vitamin, nutritional supplement, alcohol - and how it might affect a little person that I loved.

And now that's done. As of today, my body is my own again. Greta has weaned.

I've known this moment was coming for a while, so I've been preparing both Greta and myself for it, but it's still a bit harder than I expected it to be. I always knew I would breastfeed my babies, but I never really expected nursing to be something that became such a part of how I saw myself. It's a little weird to think that whole part of my life is just over.

My introduction to breastfeeding came with some challenges. Fin was a preemie, tongue-tied at birth, hard to keep awake long enough to nurse, tired too easily to get full feedings until he was several weeks old, etc. We had to give him formula in the NICU until I could learn how to pump, then we had to supplement with bottles of expressed breast milk until he was strong enough to nurse on his own. As he grew, he was a biter and a bit of a scratcher. We did end up having a very good nursing relationship, but our start wasn't the easiest. He nursed until about 19 months old, when I was pregnant with Greta and my milk supply vanished with the growing pregnancy.

When Greta was born, she nursed within a few minutes. We had the usual sleepy newborn challenges, but after she was a couple of weeks old, we never had any issues with nursing at all. She only ever bit me a couple of times and always by accident, never for amusement. She went through the typical growing baby stages of looking around a lot and being easily distracted, but for the most part, when she would use BabySigns to ask for "milk" or say "Nur be" (nurse please) or "Me nur" as she got older, she knew what she wanted and that was that. Her most recent request was always, "Me nur other side," regardless of which side was ever offered to her first.

So now she's 25 months old. I always planned to nurse her until her 2nd birthday if she was interested and then we'd evaluate how we were feeling about things. If the decision had been left solely up to me, I would not have pushed us toward weaning yet. However, I have some medical tests for myself that require her weaning and I have been putting them off for a year already, so my doctor and I decided it was probably time.

I have been trying to mentally and emotionally prepare both of us for this day for a few months now. I've been telling Greta that mommy's milk would be going bye-bye soon and she's seemed to understand and be okay with that, though part of me has always wondered if she could actually fathom what that might mean when her world has never been without mommy's milk.

For the last couple of weeks, I've been debating on when to close that door. I'd originally set Christmas as the deadline in my mind, but we all had colds over the holidays and I couldn't imagine adding that kind of insult to an already congested and miserable little girl. Besides, I knew she was still getting the antibodies I was producing through the milk, too.

So I told myself we'd end with 2009. But yesterday morning, the thought of starting the new year by telling her no was just too much for me. We did our usual wake up nurse, skipped the naptime session and then did one final bedtime nurse and cuddle. As we snuggled, I told her the milk would be gone after that and she replied with a sad little, "Otay."

She did ask to nurse this morning, but I reminded her that the milk was all gone and she just went about her day. At bedtime she forgot to even ask about it until we'd already been cuddling, reading books, telling stories and singing songs for almost 45 minutes. (Yes, we have a long bedtime routine.) When she did ask, she cried for a couple of minutes, then she told me she had to use the potty. She's getting to be such a big girl.

We managed to overcome some obstacles in the past two years and I'm proud that I was able to provide her with this relationship for as long as I did. I have been working fulltime since she was only a few months old and I pumped milk for her at work for her entire first year. When she was a few months old I had to have an MRI and it required me to pump and dump my milk for a full 48 hours after the procedure. I was able to build up enough of a stash that she never needed formula.

When she was about 8 months old I had to spend a weekend away from her for a leadership retreat. A couple of weeks before the retreat, Dave accidentally left the entire freezer supply of milk on the counter overnight. After getting over the shock of seeing all of my milk thawed on the kitchen counter, I was able to pull together enough of a supply in a few weeks that she never had to go without even when mommy was away for a couple of days.

I never expected this relationship to mean this much to me. I know it wouldn't have been this easy if she wasn't ready to wean. Mentally I am fine with this decision, but emotionally, it's a bit harder than I expected it to be, not just because I would have happily kept nursing her for a few more months, but also because this is a whole period of my life that's just OVER now.

I'm not having any more babies. I won't ever be nursing another baby again. I won't get that special snuggle and closeness that comes from nursing. I won't have that magic cure-all to offer for an ouchie, a scare, a bad dream, or a bad day.

Of course, I know I'll still provide comfort to her for all those things the way I have for Fin since he weaned, it's still just a little weird to think about just being done now after all this time. I no longer have to read every label on medication to see if I can have it while I'm pregnant or breastfeeding. It's not something I have to mention to doctors or pharmacists when I have a cold. I can wear dresses and not worry about whether she will expect to nurse when we're out and about somewhere. I can buy pretty bras again.

This is weird. And somewhat freeing, too, but I suppose I'll be able to focus on that side of it more in the next few weeks. And I know I will enjoy having my body back to myself again, if I can even remember what that's like. But for right now, this is a very bittersweet moment.