It’s official, Greyson is done nursing.
I want to cry.
I’m happy.
I want to cry.
In one way I was done too, I was ready, it was time. In another way it breaks my heart to a million little pieces. I know that our nursing time, all 2 years, 2 months and 8 days of it, gave us a bond like no other, I know that him not nursing does not mean that he doesn’t need me, but the change seems to have come with others that assert his independence and his far steps away from baby boy to big boy. He doesn’t need me to rock him to sleep, he’s excited to get into his crib and say “nigh, nigh, mommy”. He likes to lie down while I snuggle him under his covers, his eyes still wide, watching me leave the room. He spends more time playing on his own, the wheels of his imagination running wild and not needing me to entertain him. I love it and I’m so proud, and yet my heart aches for those quiet moments, rocking in the chair, looking down at my sweet baby boy nursing, one hand tucked behind my back, the other resting near my collar bone. I miss those close snuggles and knowing that I could provide him with not only nourishment, but the ultimate comfort.
No matter how big he get’s he’ll always be my little boy. Never in a million years did I think I would nurse him this long, but I’m so thankful for everyday that I did. I often tried to remind myself in the middle of the night, during the 27th feeding, that soon the days would be over when he was nursing, I didn’t realize how true that was. It was faster than a blink of an eye, and now my big boy no longer needs his nursey’s.
Thank goodness I’m still needed to kiss boo boo’s…..
I want to cry.
I’m happy.
I want to cry.
In one way I was done too, I was ready, it was time. In another way it breaks my heart to a million little pieces. I know that our nursing time, all 2 years, 2 months and 8 days of it, gave us a bond like no other, I know that him not nursing does not mean that he doesn’t need me, but the change seems to have come with others that assert his independence and his far steps away from baby boy to big boy. He doesn’t need me to rock him to sleep, he’s excited to get into his crib and say “nigh, nigh, mommy”. He likes to lie down while I snuggle him under his covers, his eyes still wide, watching me leave the room. He spends more time playing on his own, the wheels of his imagination running wild and not needing me to entertain him. I love it and I’m so proud, and yet my heart aches for those quiet moments, rocking in the chair, looking down at my sweet baby boy nursing, one hand tucked behind my back, the other resting near my collar bone. I miss those close snuggles and knowing that I could provide him with not only nourishment, but the ultimate comfort.
No matter how big he get’s he’ll always be my little boy. Never in a million years did I think I would nurse him this long, but I’m so thankful for everyday that I did. I often tried to remind myself in the middle of the night, during the 27th feeding, that soon the days would be over when he was nursing, I didn’t realize how true that was. It was faster than a blink of an eye, and now my big boy no longer needs his nursey’s.
Thank goodness I’m still needed to kiss boo boo’s…..
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