For someone who complained as much as I about nursing, one would think weaning would be a breeze. And yet... It has not been. Not even a little.
I am broken hearted at the loss of this connection. I cry everytime I think about it. The baby books all warn of this, they warn mothers of the hormone surge that comes with weaning. And I get extra (lucky me) since I already am high on the pregnancy hormone cocktail.
Each nursing session could be our last as this entire decision has been brought on by Sam. She is done. Each time I try to nurse her, she pulls away, angrily kicking her feet. She no longer wants to nurse and I am taking it like a personal rejection.
Oh, I know its not. I know she is just growing up. I know the taste has changed through my pregnancy and I had started producing less. We never really had an easy time of it as I never had an abundant supply and she was never a very good nurser. But still, it was the last physical connection we had to one another.
She will always be my baby, but in a totally different way. Last year at this time, she was still inside me. I still felt her little feet beneath my ribs. I wondered who she would be, how she would be. And now I have this little person in front of me who is entirely her own. I know she still needs me. I know she is still a baby, but I am awed by our seperateness, by the fact that I could help create this person from my body, hold her inside me for nine months, give birth to her and still have to let her go sometime. Shouldn't she just be mine? Like a robot or a doll. I made her. Shouldn't I get to keep her just the way I want her? But nope. She gets to grow (let's hope) and all I get to do is watch. Someday she will grow right past me, probably a good three inches or more. And I know she will always love me (at least she better), but she won't always be so little that I can hold her on my lap. She won't always be so little that I can squeeze her tight and carry her wherever I want.
I want her to separate. Isn't that what all parents say they want? I want an independent, smart kid who knows her own mind. I know I could not keep her on the boob forever. But damn it, if only there were a part of me that actually did not want to.