Earlier today, you asked to nurse. You used your fairly new word, milk, and used the first sign you learned and have had for so long now, and asked so sweetly, as you have SO many times before, although most weren't so easy to understand. But today was different. It had been exactly 8 days and 6 hours from the last time we nursed. (I checked the Total Baby app just to see how long it had been.) You'd weaned yourself from that one remaining morning feeding, only nursing for a few short minutes that last time. That day I knew we were done. So when you asked today, I was torn. I loved sharing those special moments with you, holding you close, seeing you smile up at me. I missed it, so I was torn. But is time to move on, so for the first time in your life, I said no baby, we're all done.
Breastfeeding you for 21 months and 4 days was a pleasure. Daddy and I worked so hard so that you would have the chance to nurse. We wanted that for you so badly, for you to have all the benefits that breastmilk can give, and for you and me to have the bond that nursing brings. And we did it. Those first 9 days were hard, SO hard, but through all the supplemental nursing systems, syringes, and whatever else we used to feed you, we knew we were doing the best for you. Once your tongue tie was resolved, you and I had a much easier time. We had our rough patches, like when you first got teeth, but we worked through them together.
I learned a lot from those 21 months and 4 days-things I never considered when I decided I wanted you to breastfeed. Most important in those lessons, it taught me that no matter what, I would always fight for what was best for you. Daddy and I fought for you to be able to breastfeed, we took the harder path because we felt breastfeeding was that important. We will always do everything in our power to give you the opportunity to do your best in life, even if it puts us on a harder road, even if you may not always agree with what we think is best.
So as you asked for milk again, I asked if you wanted Moo. You smiled and we went to the kitchen for a glass of "Moo". Eventually, you'll stop calling cows milk "Moo" and it will become milk. That will be sad for me, I'm sure, as I wonder if that means you don't remember when milk came from Mama. Because I won't forget. I won't forget the way you'd rub your tiny hand across from my one shoulder to the other as you fed. I won't forget how you'd pull off, smile and laugh. Or how you'd reach up and pat my face. Or play the game where you'd push my head from one side to the other and back again, giggling as you ate happily. I won't forget when you'd finish up on one side, hop off my lap to go play, freeze in your tracks, turn back and say, "otter side?" just like you did on the last day you nursed. December 7th, the day your daddy and I met in person, also the day you weaned. I'll never forget it.
I love you more than you could ever know, my sweet girl.