I knew it was our last time nursing. He was over 13 months and weaned down to just one feeding – right before he went to sleep for the night. A lot, and I mean a lot, lead up to this moment, and yet it felt like it completely snuck up on me.
From the second I found out I was pregnant to this final nursing session, my body was growing his body. And essentially, every decision I made that affected my body, affected his.
It’s impossible to predict what the journey will bring when it comes to feeding your newborn baby. For us, it contained hours upon hours upon hours (I could go on) of breastfeeding sessions, several ups and downs in terms of how it was all going, and a wider range of emotions than I can explain. There were moments when I winced in pain, moments when I smiled wide at how proud I was of his efficient eating, moments when I wanted to completely throw in the towel, and moments when I watched in awe of how incredible God made these female bodies to be.
This final time he nursed, I stared into his eyes, held the back of his head in my hand, and repeatedly thanked God for this sweet baby boy. I was surprisingly overcome with emotions.
The following night, when for the first time in my son’s entire life, I didn’t nurse him before bed, I said goodnight, laid him in his crib, closed the door behind me, and cried.
I cried tears of gratitude that we made it this long with breastfeeding.
I cried tears of grief that this piece of his babyhood was over.
I cried tears of trust, knowing that God is in control and is caring for my baby every second of every day.
And isn’t that all we can ever do, mamas? We can trust in the Lord because no matter how many decisions we make for these precious littles, He loves our child even more than we do. And at the end of each day, when we close that bedroom door and thank God for the beautiful mess that was today, He wraps these mama hearts of ours right up close to his heart, washing us with grace and encouragement and love.