It’s happening. This is really happening. And just when I said self-weaning was bullshit. Don’t worry, this isn’t turning into a breastfeeding blog, because that’s coming abruptly to an end. For the second consecutive night, my little guy sheepishly crawled in with a brother and snuggled in. Without me. Without me. Without his Mama.
This moment has been on my mind all day. It was my first thought this morning, consumed my commute to work, filled the spaces in my mind during meetings, brought on an ache in my throat after lunch. I was distracted as I watched my oldest play lacrosse tonight, at dinner and in the yard. As I watched that sweet boy run and throw his head back in laughter, rolling in the grass, flashing me that toothy, goofy smile, I knew bedtime was coming. We brushed teeth, I held my breath. Climbed the stairs, put jammies on. Stomach tightening, Are you going to sleep with your brother again tonight? Yes.
And all of a sudden, this became a story about a Mama losing her baby. If reading that doesn’t signal the pierce of a tear, the sting of your nose, or your breath to catch, I can tell you that as a Mama, short of tragedy, there may be no greater loss. So here is the raw truth: We want our children to grow, learn, become. But the instances when they start to leave us are both the most heart-breaking and heart-filling moments we may ever experience. A child turning from what was once the only comfort he knew, while causing undeniable pain, is a Mama’s greatest accomplishment. We raise our children to leave us. But the moment it actually happens is nothing we could have fathomed before that point.
This is also the story of a baby growing into a child. He’s not leaving his Mama, he just needs her a little less. We need to learn to bond in a different way. I am beyond thankful that he is choosing this path on his own will. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d wondered if it was time or thought about how we would do this. He’s taken the guesswork out of the process. I’m trying not to let this break my heart. Trying so hard to accept his choice. I never, in my whole life, thought I’d grow so attached to nursing. It’s not the act of nursing, it’s the connection we share at the end of the day. Correction: It’s the connected we shared at the end of the day.
My heart feels heavy and light tonight, if that’s possible. So much of Mamahood is filled with experiences which are both the best and worst thing all at once. I’m living in the moment; documenting these moments, pouring my guts out because I need to not feel alone in this. I know I’m not. I know there are a many of Mamas nodding their heads right now. Thank you Mamas. I know there maybe some who are not Mamas reading too- and hopefully now you get it. Now you get a peek into this world of being a Mama. The struggle, the success, the pain, the bliss. The Love.