Every nursing bra. Every nursing shirt. Every tube of Lanolin (what?? Maybe 5 of them lying around the house?). Every soothie pad. Every nursing book. Every little tiny annoying piece of TWO pumps. Every milk storage bag. Every boppy pillow (I have 2-1/2 of them).
It's time for a bonfire because I don't need them anymore.
Anja had only been nursing in the mornings for about the past two or three weeks. Then she woke up the morning after her spectacular birthday party and didn't want any milk. That was a first. That child had never refused a boob in her face. I changed her diaper so she was comfy. I made sure her nose wasn't stuffy. Still nothing. Made her a bottle and she was perfectly happy with that.
Next morning, same thing. And I asked my precious now 1-year-old daughter, "Don't you want your milk anymore?" And she shook her head "no." Honestly. She shook her little head.
And I decided that was my cue it was time to stop.
The funny thing is that I was all worried about how to bring those final nursing sessions to an end, fearing that she would freak out and beg for the boob. I read the message boards about weaning on La Leche League's website to get ideas. But, in the end, she was the one who made the call. Which I think is exactly how it should be.
I have mentioned before that this is bittersweet. I long to wear normal bras and have the occasional glass of wine. But I feel a little part of me is empty after spending the past year working so hard to provide sustenance for my daughter. I have been watching the Planet Earth series, so I had been referring to her as my little cub, as though she were baby bear to my mama bear. This is a transition, as much of parenting is - one she was ready for before I was.
Enough of that sad sappy crap. I'm going to go look at my calender to schedule the bonfire. I've got some bras to burn!