Five hundred and seventy six days.  & just like that, like a flip of a switch, it’s over.  We all know the end will come, but then it does. & the emotions crash over you like a wave.

Sadness, nostalgia, excitement, longing, pride, guilt.  & with each   emotion, comes a plethora of thoughts to follow.  Sadness – my baby isn’t quite my baby anymore… Nostalgia – but remember when he was?? those sweet newborn cuddles.  Excitement – oh my goodness, freedom?!! bed time can be successful without me! Longing – but wait, are you sure? maybe just one more cuddle?  Pride – wow, we did the damn thing.  & for 19 months, at that! Guilt – it’s over, the last time has come and gone, before you even realized it.  were you fully present last night? did you cherish the last quiet time you had together?

Honestly, I can’t even remember.  I knew the end was coming, it had been on the horizon for a while.  But I was blind sided.  Our nightly routine was severed by my taby (not quite a toddler/not quite a baby) deciding he was ready to grow up.  Deciding he didn’t need our quite time before bed anymore.  It didn’t even cross his mind; we went about our nightly routine and then, rather than asking for his milky milk, he asked for a book.  So, as I sat there somewhat in shock, I decided to just roll with the punches.  All while my heart and mind were at war as to whether I should offer.

But I knew the answer. This was a good thing.  This is a step in the right direction.  Weaning is something that has to be done at some time or another & this was the way I had wanted.  For him to self wean.  For the ball to be in his court, so he could let me know when he was ready.  & that is exactly what he was doing.

That was Monday.  When I closed the door behind me as I said goodnight, so many questions loomed in my mind.  Has the end come?  Was tonight a fluke?  What do I do if he asks tomorrow night?    I was so overwhelmed.   Not even two weeks ago, he had a stomach bug and was nursing nonstop.  I was concerned we would regress, yet here we were.  Talk about a rollercoaster! But it didn’t really hit me until Tuesday.  One night might be a fluke, but two nights in a row?  Not so much.   Night 2 came & went without him asking.  That night as I closed the door & said goodnight, I broke down into tears.

*cue the emotions*

Tears of sadness, tears of nostalgia, tears of excitement, tears of longing, tears of pride, tears of guilt.

As I type this, four days since the last time he nursed, I still am unsure how to feel.  Logically, I know this is a good thing. Logically, I know I should only be harboring the positive emotions.  But I’m not quite there yet.    I am excited to have my body back & I am so proud of our journey.  We made it longer than I ever expected, even after a bad run in with mastitis, and my kid is healthy & happy.  But still, I have been stuck with this guilt.

The taboo nature of breastfeeding is so interesting to me, as I’ve mentioned in previous posts. There is shame for nursing, there is shame for not nursing, there is shame for supplementing,  there is shame for nursing “too long”,  there is shame for weaning “too early”.  Postpartum struggles are real & I can’t help but think that we, as such a judgmental society, are just adding more strife.  Here I am, a mom who exclusively nursed for just shy of 19 months, who is proud, who is excited, who is nostalgic and who has gotten shame for nursing “too long” & who is now feeling guilt that we have weaned.

Maybe it’s just my hormones finally getting back to normal after almost 2.5 years.  Maybe I’m not far enough removed from the situation yet.  Or maybe we all just need to do a little better; be a littler nicer.  Nicer to ourselves & nicer to each other.  Focus on building each other up, supporting each other & following the golden rule.  Maybe, just maybe, then the mom shaming & looming guilt will start to fade and we can all be proud of ourselves and the awesome moms that we are.