A year ago, this week, I was nursing my itty bitty on a park bench, still learning what life meant and looked like with an infant. My babe, a mere 3 weeks old, and I had come to some sort of nonverbal agreement with breastfeeding. I finally appreciated it, and enjoyed it. My goal – make it a year.
Then she wouldn’t take a bottle. And, my loving relationship with nursing became a grudge, for a few weeks. My resolve, well, resolved, and I pushed on toward the goal of a year.
Now, it’s been a year. I’m rather amazed that so much time has passed since this journey began and this #wbw, I am beginning the weaning process.
My breastfeeding journey has not looked like your journey. I had the child who refused a bottle, not the breast. In many, many ways, I am fortunate. My brother’s girlfriend just had a baby, and their little one refused the breast. And then she dried up because pumping isn’t the same as nursing. Another friend had to exclusively pump. And yet another choose formula because the thought of not having enough milk stressed her out.
Our journeys are all different, but our babies, regardless, are loved and well nourished, whether by breast or bottle.
So, as I start weaning, I am mourning a little bit of my relationship with my precious baby girl, thankful that we had this year to build a special bond. I’m excited to finally have my “body back” but as she continues to drop feedings, I miss that special time that just the two of us had together. It’s hard recognizing your daughter is growing up, growing in independence, and no longer needing you for sustenance. But, at the same time, it’s exciting knowing that she’s growing up and growing in independence.
My feelings are complicated, but I am so very thankful to have sojourned with my tiny little this past year in such a remarkable way.