today

this was actually written two weeks ago, but I wanted to share it with you

As I lay on our king size bed, breast bared to our sleeping five + a half month old sleeping infant, I hear the gentle snores of my husband in the other room. I can picture him laying next to our 26 month old daughter...both of them sharing blissful dreams of Star Wars and polar bears.

Today was the first day of the rest of our lives. Like every day, I suppose. Every day we encounter mini-milestones. Discovering a better route home from work. How to add milk at just the right time to make the perfect gravy. In Sawyer's life, today was the first day without nie-nie.

Nie-nie is comfort. It's peace. It's the quickest way to calm and soothe. Nie-nie is our family word for nursing, something Sawyer knows very well.

Within the first precious moments of her birth, she suckled at my breast. I came to the hospital fully prepared with my Boppy, breast pump, breast pads, La Leche League's "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding", and ideas floating in my head of various holds + ways to help my newborn latch on to my breast. Latching, however, was not our problem. We've had a hard time UN-latching.

Last night was the last nie-nie. She awoke from a nightmare, demanding to nurse. I reluctantly allowed her to nurse (we are night-weaned). When I did so, I discovered she really just wanted to lay her head on my bare breast, without nursing. This has been our pattern lately, but for some reason, I knew my baby bird was ready for a nudge out of the nie-nie nest.

The next morning when Sawyer awoke, she immediately asked to nurse. I reminded her that she nursed last night and drank her nie-nie then. She quickly responded, "that's okay, Momma. I drink baby Oakley's nie-nie." I answered her gently "no, no sweetie. I made you some special banana bread with chocolate chips. Let's go get milk with a straw + banana bread!" She was excited to go downstairs for the banana bread + quickly forgot the nie-nie.

Our next checkpoint was naptime. I had taken her to storytime at our local library and to play on the playground so she would be thoroughly worn out + ready for her afternoon nap. When we got home, we all curled up on our family bed to read books and take a nap in the sunshine. She briefly asked to nurse, but I showed her a new "look and find" book from the library and asked if she wouldn't rather look at that with me. She was very excited. We had a great time perusing the book and she soon drifted off to sleep.

When she awoke from her nap, I thought we were going to have to nurse. I was just about to tell her that big girls don't have nie-nie, a conversation I never have felt right about, when instead, I told her how excited I am for her. "Sawyer! Now that you're a big girl, I'm so excited for you! Let's make you some purple cow milk (grape juice mixed with whole milk) downstairs while baby Oakley finishes her nap. How special and fun for us!!"

So the two of us slipped away downstairs where the two of us drank purple cows, shared another slice of banana bread, and giggled together. She kept kissing me on my face and I knew in a heartbeat she was ready to fly. She and I went back upstairs to check on Oakley and to work on her Strawberry Shortcake sticker workbook.

As I write this, tears are softly streaming down my face. I'm not really sure why. My nursing journey with Sawyer has lasted significantly longer than my husband or I ever dreamed. It has been sweet, endearing, messy, silly, peaceful, and precious. Tandem nursing has been an even greater roller-coaster of emotions. Surges of happiness and love, to downright resentment at times. Above all, I am so thankful that she was as committed as I to seeing this first portion of our journey together so wonderfully.

With a heart filled with love, relief, mixed with a hint of sadness over the loss of her babyhood, a smile for the adventures that lie ahead, and an aching breast, I close my eyes in blissful slumber. Sleep well, sweet girl. Sleep well, sweet family of mine.

xo