My beautiful Sapphire Son last nursed the morning of July 24th. We’d been slowly weaning, going from on-demand to three times a day, to two, then finally only mornings. I won’t list the reasons why, but I will say that weaning my son was a slow and natural progression. I’d been feeling the “last time” coming, so I made sure to put aside books and electronics, and just savor the moment, commiting it to memory.
A few days ago, I put boxed up my breast pump, creams, nursing pads and bras. Sapphire Son is my last baby, so I won’t be needing those again. It’s hard, and bittersweet, and, if I’m honest I feel more than a little lost. I nursed Pearl Girl for 14 months, Sapphire Son for 10, so a collective 24 months (two years!) of my life has been devoted to breastfeeding. Nursing my children has been such a huge part of my identity as a parent, that I have a bit of soul searching to do. I’ll find my place again, I just need to give myself time to grieve this period of our lives. My babies aren’t babies anymore.
Time marches on.