Dear boy-child,

As I write this you are nursing in my arms, your top hand searching relentlessly for my other nipple, I never dreamed I would be wistful for your sister’s hair pulling. Nipple twisting is a whole other level of torture. That being said, I have loved nursing you for all of these months. You are getting so big, you are so independent, and want to do everything yourself. You are my crazy climber with lots to say. You love your stuffed bear, balls, trains, and Tinker Bell. Others would say you are all boy, but I don’t believe in gender stereotyping, so I say you are all you. As big as you have gotten, right now you seem so little, with your eyes half closed, suckling happily while you twist and stretch in your turtle pajamas.

Tomorrow I am leaving for two nights, to go to my Nana’s funeral. I imagine it is going to be hard on you. I have never left you overnight. I nurse you before you fall asleep, and again in the middle of the night. When you cry, while I am gone, your daddy will come to you, and I am hoping you will let him comfort you, but am afraid you won’t. It may be two very long hard days.

Lately, I have been moving towards slowly weaning you. Some days it feels like it is working,  on other days you climb in my lap yelling “Nurse, Mama”, at the top of your lungs while thrusting your arm as far down my shirt as you can get it. i am equal parts afraid that you will wean while I am away and that you won’t. In case tonight is the last night I feed you at midnight, I want to make note of it. To acknowledge the way your eyelashes brush against your eyelids, and the little tiny waves at the nape of your neck. I kiss you occasionally as you nurse, and sometimes you giggle and others you are annoyed. I want to mark this moment just in case.

Nursing a little lion

You are an amazing little boy, and I am glad to be your mama.

Thanks and love