breastfeeding memories

She's fussy. Crying. Throwing herself on the floor. I see the signs. She's tired. Needs a nap.

I take her up the stairs. Lay her on our bed. I lay down next to her, let loose the flap of my nursing bra and lift my top. She makes noises of excitement, kicking her legs as she rolls over next to me and latches on. Her eyes quickly fall shut and I am left only with the sounds of her suckling and her soft breath.

Eventually she falls off, in a deep, perfect slumber. And I am relaxed, drifting to sleep after taking in the moment.

My memories of nursing my little girls are almost identical and equally as wonderful. Perfection. I didn't think I would like, love breastfeeding the way I have. I remember thinking after having my first that I would be happy getting through the first few months and then suddenly I found myself nursing at 15 months.

Then my second child arrived and she wasn't interested in the boob to start with. I found myself mourning over the idea of not nursing. But eventually she came around and here, at almost a year, she is still nursing.

I plan on starting the weaning process in a few days, hoping to have her fully weaned like her sister at 15 months. I'm finding myself already missing those moments that I found to be so perfect. But it's time.

But these memories will remain forever in my heart.