Wednesday, August 15 2012 was the last day I breastfed Mika.
For the past 16 months I’ve been careful with what I’m eating and drinking. I’ve never been away from her for more than 12 hours. But the last few months she has been having only a morning and an evening feed and the only one she really seemed to enjoy was the evening one. But last night I was out looking at some wedding dresses and the bus didn’t get me home til 9pm and so Ivan called and we talked about how maybe this was the time. He said he would get her ready for bed, give her some warm milk (non-dairy) in a bottle and put her down. It felt like a rather monumental moment to be discussing over the phone, but I said sure, and just like that I would never breastfeed her again.
I cried into my pillow and Ivan spoke true and reassuring words to me about how our baby girl will always be our baby but right now she is growing and getting stronger and more independent and we should be proud of her and happy that she is so healthy and happy.
I cried because I want her to stay my baby forever but I also cried because I feel so free and that makes me happy and sad all at once. I try to remind myself of the nights where she would be stuck on my boob and I would try to pry her off and she would cry and then I would cry because I was so over it. But all I remember is her little hands reaching up for me and the instant calm that would envelop her body as she latched on and nuzzled into me so sweetly.
Whenever I feel sad that something is over, I remind myself that every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end (thanks Semisonic) and it makes me a little sad to remember that life just keeps moving like that, but also a little happy to know that this is the start of something new.