Tehilla, who always asked to be nursed before nap time and sleep time, dispensed with her beloved routine as a matter of course. She is now 2 years and 3 months old.
Such an event, I imagine, is bittersweet for many mothers all around the world, but I am at peace and thankful for what had been. I can give praise and feel deep gratitude for knowing that, at least, this first and essential task of motherhood was accomplished successfully. Nursing my children was a lovely long period of time, and I enjoyed it to the fullest. Now we are ready to move on to other things, different but equally wonderful, that life has in store for us.
We have gone a long way. When I first became a mother, I wasn't sure whether I'm holding the baby the right way, whether I'm producing, and she getting, any milk. An uneducated remark of a doctor about my ability to nurse reduced me to tears. But with Tehilla, it was all pretty much smooth sailing, which acted like a balm for past wounds, and I had had the most wonderful two and something years.
To this day, I only have a vague idea of where baby formula is located on supermarket shelves, and how to prepare it, because I have never done that myself, and we never kept formula in the house.
I will always have fond memories of breastfeeding, will always be a breastfeeding advocate, and will always be ready to share my (limited) experience with new Moms, and help in any small way I can to promote the lovely experience of breast-nourishment (physical and emotional) for other mothers and babies.
This beautiful oil painting is "The Young Mother", by Charles West Cope, from 1845