ChiKat

My son is no longer nursing. He's 14-months-old. I can't believe I nursed him for that long. It was so hard in the beginning, when he wasn’t on a schedule and I was his only source of nutrition. No matter what I was doing, when he fussed I would need to stop and find somewhere private to nurse him. It felt like he fussed every five minutes.

It was the hardest between months three to six, when he was a baby instead of a newborn, when it was easy to be convinced that he could take a bottle just as easily, when he wasn't sleeping well and demanded me all the time.

But we survived and started to figure out a schedule. Or rather, I figured out that I could put him on a schedule, that I could start deciding when he should nurse rather than waiting for him to fuss.

After that, it was still occasionally a hassle, but it also gave me great superpowers. If he bumped his head, fell down, was crabby, was sad…all those things I could magically fix just by nursing him. My son is incredibly active and squirming. He's not a cuddler (and neither am I). But during those nursing sessions, we curled around each other, skin to skin, and just marveled at each other. The nursing sessions created a bond between us that is magical and awe-inspiring. I'm so thankful I had the experience. I'm so thankful my husband supported me during the tough times, told me that I could stop is I wanted to, but knew I could keep going if I wanted to.

More than I ever thought I would, I am going to miss our nursing sessions. But I'm so proud of my boy, of his independence. He's brave and bold and intelligent.

I no longer have my nursing superpowers, but I get to keep that magical bond that I have with him. I am so blessed.