So let me dust off this blog’s cobwebs for a minute and tell you about an end to a significant relationship in my life.

It’s one that’s given me a great sense of fulfillment, but has also drained my every reserve of strength. I haven’t taken this relationship  for granted one second, but have occasionally found myself wanting out.

And this weekend marks the official end.

Blaire and I have ended our nursing relationship. At the age of 15 months, this little darling will be saying goodbye to momma’s milk.

And of course I’m met with a sort of emotional ambivalence. I’m SO HAPPY to be free, but I mourn the loss of our intimate connection, the feeling of natural provision, most of all- the positive effects the antibodies provide her.

So let me back up (for the sake of mommy nostalgia) and tell the whole relationship story. Blaire has been a nursing champ since day one. It hurt for 3-4 weeks, like most every mom I’ve known has affirmed, but after we settled into the routine, I could not have been more pleased. I was also exhausted, sleep-deprived, hungry all the time…but satisfied. So much so, that I thought of continuing this relationship for quite some time after we moved.

Until this happened: the day we moved from our home in Mina Lake to our temporary place at the ranch, she stopped nursing. I thought it was a strike at first and offered her my breast several times a day for over a month. After a week-long trip away, pumping all the while, I returned to see if she might change her mind and nurse. Nope. So that was that….I could now choose, keep pumping or be done.

My rational husband told me I’d more than exceeded my goal of nursing 12 months, which was true…but something about the abrupt ending did not rest well with me, so I pumped. And pumped. And pumped. I just couldn’t let this relationship go.

Fast forward to now, Blaire’s turned 15 months, she’s (slowly) adjusting to day care, is healthy and happy, and has been drinking cow’s milk like a champ for 3 months. With more than enough ministry to keep me busy, I’ve decided to stop pumping.

Which is, by the way, one of the most anti-climactic experiences ever. I just pumped these last 3 ounces, washed the pump parts, fed Blaire the bottle. And that’s it.

An end to a 15-month relationship with no fanfare or confetti.

So I share the ending with you, because for all the tears and sleepless nights it’s cost me, I wouldn’t have traded these 15 months for anything (I say now, after it’s over). J

Here’s to all the nursing mommas, the momma’s who wanted to nurse but couldn’t, the momma’s who pump like superheros, the momma-figures who find other creative ways to nurture children…All your love is not lost on me.