I’ve been thinking about weaning lately. Can you really call it weaning when you are milking yourself with a pump? As strange as it sounds, this is still a nursing relationship that I have with my baby. It’s still doing something for her that only I can do. And I treasure the ability to do that. I know that once I stop, that I can’t change my mind. It’s possible to re-lactate, but that requires an enthusiastic nurser, which I don’t have.
One of the things that has brought this to the forefront of my mind is reading Doris’s blog. Her post on weaning her son just resonated with that bittersweetness that weaning brings to me. She’s aptly titled it ” Last days of Nursing Journey”, and that is truly what it is. It’s a journey that begins while you are yet almost one with your babe, and at the end, hopefully, the two of you walk separately hand in hand.
Where does that leave me, since my own nursing experience this time has been such a solitary act? When it’s over, I am the only one who will miss it. I’m not quite sure I am ready to let it go.