The Ache Of Endings And A Brand New Year
Today my sweet girl turns 3 years old. Since becoming a mom birthdays have become a little bittersweet. So many milestones are surpassed in 365 days and this year is no different.
Sometime over the last couple of weeks my daughter Pepper nursed for the very last time. And just like a lot of childhood endings, neither of us knew it was the last time. It was just an ordinary day and we were just doing an ordinary thing.
When I was pregnant with Pepper I didn’t think much about breastfeeding. I mean, I hoped it would work but I wasn’t going to allow myself to be upset if we had too many challenges and needed to find another way. But the thing is, it did work. And it worked REALLY well for us.
Something about breastfeeding that took me completely off guard is this— It wasn’t just about the nourishment in those early newborn days. It was about so much more. Nursing connected us during middle of the night feedings when it felt like we were the only two people on earth. It saved us during teething, during sickness, and during bedtime routines. It saved us when big toddler emotions would come on strong or when we were in a new envoriomnet and she just needed a little comfort before exploring a new place. We nursed through eye rolls as she got bigger and I found myself clutching onto her a little harder when I felt judgment. We nursed everywhere. We weren’t picky! We nursed inside, outside, or sitting in the dirt.
We nursed while I was pregnant with Pepper’s baby sister. As my belly grew she still managed to find a way to fit on my lap, twirl my hair and do her thing. And after Maize was born we continued to nurse— And she adopted a new phrase after her nursing sessions. “Don’t worry Maize, I left some milk for you.”
I knew this day was coming. I’ve felt it for quite some time now. And if I’m being honest, I have been ready for a while. However, I didn’t want to rush it. I didn’t want to rush her. This little girl of mine has her own timeline in life and I know deep in my mama gut that I just cannot rush certain things.
I was on a walk the other morning when it finally hit me like a ton of bricks— we are done nursing. The finality of this realization was heavy. I started to cry and wondered one thing— how many hours of my life have I spent nursing Pepper? Was it hundreds of hours? No wait, she just turned 3. That must mean we’ve spent THOUSANDS of hours nursing. Nursing my daughter for these past three years has meant more to me than I ever thought possible. And while I know we will find a million other ways to connect during all of life's crazy adventures and uncertainties, I know I will miss this. These thousand plus hours are some of the most magical hours I’ve ever had the privilege of spending with another human.
On this third trip around the sun for my little girl all I can say is this. I’m so gosh darn grateful for it all.
