I never thought I would nurse past a year. But that was long before I had babies. Now I understand…
You squeal as I cradle you, because you know Mommy’s milk is coming. I begin to feed you, and you flirt at me with your eyes. Sometimes you finish quickly and try to crawl off to see what big brother or big sister are doing. Other times, we just hang out, enjoying the time that is ours alone.
Today, we snuggle and nurse. Afterwards, you clap for me and then dance, bouncing up and down in my lap, trying to make me laugh. You babble at me, complete gibberish, expecting me to understand. I do, you know. I do understand and respond to your little babbles.
And I wonder “When was the last time I delighted in you, little boy?”
Between the doctor’s visit for your brother, who has croup, buying a week’s worth of groceries, the trip to the pharmacy, lunch, homeschool for big sister, and time spent with the other kids, when was the last time I just stopped to enjoy you, my little guy?
You demanded that I hold you on my hip at the doctor’s office, and I was happy to oblige, but did I take the time to admire your sweet dimples? Did I stop to kiss that little downy head of yours? Did we take the time to just make eyes at each other, finding joy in the company of each other?
No, I was busy. And distracted.
But this time? This time is ours.
The doctors say to keep nursing until 12 months, and after that, nurse “as long as is mutually desired.” Well baby, it’s mutually desired. You love the attention and I love the snuggles and the time together.
You may not need it quite as much as you did as a newborn, but I think we both still need this, the connection that we have.