I haven't really wanted to post about this, because it is still so very fresh, and new in my mind. There are days when I am totally sad about it and days when I am excited. Then there are days when it never even crosses my mind.
A few weeks ago, Gwennie nursed for the last time. She climbed into my lap, and nursed maybe for a few minutes, then she climbed out and ran off, never to return. Never to ask again. Never to be my nursling again. Never.
I knew it was happening, I had eluded to it a few times in her monthly newsletters. She would sometimes go almost a week without it. But she always came back. If I asked her if she was a big girl who didn't need "gup" she looked at me, eyes wide and sad, and asked for it right then.
Now I ask, and she laughs, says "I am Gennie Goo!" and runs off to play.
She is such a big girl, it breaks my heart. It hurts to think there is a chance I will never hold another new baby to my breast, or go through this bittersweet weaning process again. I try not to dwell on it at all. But as my sister's belly grows I am reminded of the time I was pregnant with Gwennie, when she was pregnant with Madder, and we talked about all of this stuff together. I wish I could be pregnant with her, but am glad at the same time that I am not. (Because of the deployment.)
My breasts still ache. Especially as I type this. I know that they still produce a little bit of milk, because sometimes in the shower I squeeze them lightly to watch it happen. They won't always do that. There will be a time when I squeeze, and nothing will come. Maybe that would be easier. Now it is a reminder of what is done, over, gone.
Like I said before, sometimes I am thrilled by her weaning. Partially because she also started wearing panties (like a big girl) around the same time. She still has accidents in them once in a while, but she is getting better. I just have to let her wear them, because she was fully trained when naked/bottomless at the beginning of the summer. (She can't very well walk around bottomless everywhere we go, can she?) But she gets better every day. (She is down to about three pairs of panties a day.)
I just wish I was fully ready and fully happy about her being weaned. I should be happy, because it shows how grown up she is getting. I should be because I knew she was ready and it wasn't forced on her at all. I should be, because it was just time. But there will always be a part of me that will miss holding her to my breast and giving her the sweet, mama's milk that I made just for her.