My baby girl is 14 months old, and our relationship is evolving quickly. She’s so incredibly independent, and not relying on me for certain things every day. One of the things that I have been mentally preparing for is her weaning from breastfeeding. With her coming to me less and less, I’m making much less milk than I once was. She knows she has to work harder to get milk, but she gladly does so we can have sweet moments together that only her and I share. Tonight, she suckled furiously to get the let down of the milk, and despite her best efforts, it just didn’t come. My sweet girl was looking up at me, signing “milk” as fast as she could, and I could not give her what she wanted. I begged my body to fill her belly with momma’s milk, but nothing. She eventually stopped, laid on my chest, and whimpered. I soaked her freshly washed hair in my tears because I failed her. We sat there silently together for a while before she pointed to her room to go to bed.
For the first time since she was born, I was not able to rise to the occasion for her. I’ve had a lot of low blows in life, and I have felt fairly inadequate at times, but this particular gut wrenching pain was, and is, almost too much to bear. I pride myself on being her superhero, and I couldn’t be for her what she needed. I let her down. She knew it, and I knew it. My princess went to bed without our usual nursing session where I hum in her ear as she pats my arm. She just grabbed her blanket, rolled over, and went to sleep.
I hope my sweet angel sleeps well. I know it’s going to be a long night for me.