Last Friday, I got Sam up from bed and brought him in to our bedroom to nurse. Totally normal start to the day for us. Except this time, it wasn’t normal. This was the last time I was going to bring Sam in to nurse.
That’s right. After hemming and hawing over this issue for months, I finally made the decision to wean Sam.
In some ways, the decision was easy. For Peter’s birthday, I had decided to kidnap him and take him on a much needed vacation. I had everything planned. We would drop the kids off at school/day care on Friday morning and then head to the airport for six glorious, kid free days in Santa Fe. Peter had no idea what I was up to. He didn’t know I had packed a suitcase for him, had taken six days worth of clothing for the kids to my parents, and had decided to stop nursing.
He walked in on me feeding Sam that morning, and failed to notice the tears streaming down my face as I gazed down at Sam nursing. I whispered to Sam to enjoy it, for it would be the last time he experienced it.
You see, when I packed my suitcase, the one things I didn’t include was a pump. I am using these six days away to let my supply dry up.
At least that is the plan. We will find out on Friday morning when I see Sam for the first time if my body had different ideas.
In the meantime, I am feeling a little apprehensive about the whole thing. I am wondering what to replace my nursing time with so Sam and I still get some quality quite bonding time together.
I am open for suggestions – so please, help me figure out how to fill that time when Sam first gets up and right before bed when we used to nurse.