It was Monday morning. June 6th to be exact. I sat down to watch some morning news and nurse baby Henry. Little did I know in that moment it would be the last time he would nurse.
And I am sad.
It’s marks the end of an era in my life. Twenty years of nursing and nourishing my babies (minus two years when Gideon didn’t/couldn’t nurse).
Although I had been thinking about starting to wean him there was nothing in the works yet. I wasn’t ready for the snuggles to end! It was all Henry. He just didn’t want to nurse anymore. All that day I tried. And the next. And the next. I knew when he was hungry. He would cry and whine but he absolutely refused to nurse.
Only one of my children, Eve, completely stopped nursing just like that. She was seven months old.
Thankfully Henry still wants to be held and cuddled as he drinks from a bottle. If you give him one when he is sitting on the floor, he’ll come over and stand by you, tapping your leg until you pull him up into your lap.
He cries if you don’t.
Oh, I am so glad he is still a cuddler! I don’t think my mama heart could take it if he completely cut out the cuddling and the nursing at the same time. He just loves to grab your face and give kisses.
Henry seems to be growing up the fastest. Is that always the case with the youngest one? Maybe having the older ones leaving makes me want to cherish his littleness even more. I don’t know.
What I do know is I love being a mother. To Henry. To ALL my children. I’m trying to enjoy each one in whatever stage of growing up they are in. It’s hard! Not because there are so many stages all at once. Not because any stage is more difficult than another. It’s hard because I don’t want any of them to grow up to begin with!
There are so many mistakes I’ve made and am making. I want to have a chance to redo and make-up. One thing I am very glad of we didn’t hurry up their growing up. They are doing that themselves. Even Henry.