If I've learned anything about myself over the course of my 28 years of life is that things or "phases" come and go from my life. As of gotten older, especially this past year, I've actually felt totally ok with it. There are some months where I crave an hour of yoga every day. I want to push my body and it feels so great to gain strength and flexibility. I feel zen, I want to watch the leaves in the wind and count my breath. Some times I want to write. I have all these thoughts that just need to be out my head. Then there will be a month where I don't want to move my body. I don't want to feel zen. Things don't click like they should in that department and I'm learning that for me, that's ok. I've been through enough seasons to know that I will want to work out again. Green smoothies will gain their appeal again and I will find myself counting my breath cross legged by a candle once again.
This last month has been hard for me. I weaned my son and found it one of the most emotional things I have ever gone through. To me, nursing was the best thing I have done with my life. I loved it. I loved him snuggled up to me and knowing that I was providing him nourishment. But I was noticing signs that he wasn't the healthiest that a little nugget could be. He got hives a lot, vomited more and more often and had perpetual bags under his eyes that didn't go away even with lots of sleep. We went to the allergist and found he has several allergies that could be causing all of these symptoms. We were instructed to get an epi-pen and given our instructions on foods to avoid and what to do in case of a severe reaction. I felt like a truck hit me. I had done everything I was supposed to do, I ate those foods through pregnancy, introduced them on time, how had this happened? I made the decision to stop nursing that day. I knew that I wasn't up for another strict elimination diet ( I was on one for months in the spring) and that it would take weeks for the foods to leave my body anyways. Declan was always really good about taking a bottle and had stopped being as soothed by nursing as he used to. I felt it was a natural time to stop for him.
There are lots of pretty charts and things on Pinterest for how to wean your body but I didn't find much help on your emotional state. I was sad to say the least. There was more than one night spent sobbing and hugging my husband on the couch. It was like an era had ended and I would never have it back. In a tearful phone call with my mother in law she informed me that there would be lots of moments like this in motherhood. Lots of endings. She told me that it's ok to mourn them. I'm not sure if it actually does get easier though. I think that's just the curse of motherhood. Your emotions regarding your children just sit so close to the surface that they are little too easily accessible. (Bonus: the ability to cry on cue?) Ironically, one of my best friends was learning to nurse her newborn during this time. It took me back to all the tears, pain and late nights. On this other side of the journey it doesn't seem quite so epic but when your in it, it seems an impossible task.
I will always look back on the months spent nursing my son as some of the best months of my life, probably always with tears in my eyes. And I'm totally fine with that. As he gets closer to walking and I see a new chapter of our lives about to start I can feel myself coming out of my little sad hole I've made. I've been feeling fab urge to write, to pull out my mat, to bake and cook again. I even got a little part time job! I'm glad that I took some time though to process, to mourn, and now to embrace a season of my life that I will never forget. ❤️❤️