weaning

“Me now mommy, me now, please!”

My heart is in my throat. I am ready and I feel great sadness, tears sting my eyes suddenly, my belly is heating up realizing I have nursed my son for the very last time, ever earlier this evening.
This is the first night he is going to bed without the nursing bond we have shared so sweetly since he first lay on my chest only minutes old.  I attempted to pump once.  In forty minutes I collected less than six ounces, and then he wouldn’t drink from the bottle, and never has. Kaius has always referred to my milk as his “me now”.  It’s Sunday night, one week before his third birthday.
Hearing his cries split my heart wide open as I practice breathing deeply with compassion connecting with him as he expresses his raw emotion.

“It’s a big deal sweetie, I understand.  I hear you.  You can cry, and express how you feel, it’s okay.”  I gently tell him.  A thunderous emotional wave blisters through him.  I continue to stay close to my breath, holding him, staying with him while he experiences his frustration.

He tells me to pick him up and carry him out of his room.  I pick him up, hold him close and tell him ” we are staying in your room, Kaius.”  He cries out even louder in disappointment.  He breaks with sudden silence and then tells me to sing the super hero song for him; his favorite. I sing, he then wants me to tell him he is “this many” as he holds up 3 fingers. I explain, “Not yet, on Sunday, you’ll be three.  In seven days, you’ll be three”.  “No mom”, he debates holding up three fingers.  “I am this many now.”  We lay down again. I see this is a right of passage for him, I honor it.

“Pat me mommy, pat me.” he beckons and I begin to gently pat his back as I pray over him, asking for comfort, for him, for me, for us. I open up even more asking for loving energy and courage to nourish me.  Kaius is calm and requesting a batman song. He says, “I am batman and you are Robin.”

Another wave of emotion strikes him with great force.  He exclaims  “I want to cry about ‘me now’.” I look at him and nod and say, “go ahead baby, feel it, you can say any words you need to.”  I comforted him and told him how much courage I saw in him and how I was sad too.  I acknowledged to him how hard I see this is for him and shared with him that we can do it together.  I patted and patted and sang. He calmed again and then he said “I love you so much mommy” and I replied  “I love you so much too Kaius. I am so proud of how brave you are.” Moments passed and eventually he drifted off to sleep.
At forty-five years old I have nursed my last baby.  I am grieving.  These moments have been incredibly powerful for me.  I devoted three full years of being completely on call for his needs night and day, with some help, which I am grateful for and primarily it has been me waking numerous times a night, nursing and patting him back to sleep. This has been my choice and my vow, one I value deeply. I am so very for the abundance of nourishment that my body has produced to offer countless hours of nutrition to my son for three years.  I am so fortunate. I am grateful for this process of transition and how is shaping me, shaping him and shaping us and our family.

What a wonderful, beautiful experience it has been, one I shall miss and remember fondly.  And I now am ready.  

I am.