Every day was the same. I’d come home after a long day at work, snatch up my baby and we’d settle into the same corner of the couch that cradled me and him for the 9 months he was inside of me.
We’d snuggle in close, he’d always pull the blanket over his face and he’d drift into the most peaceful sleep as he nursed. I looked forward to “Mommy time” everyday.
I don’t remember the exact day it ended. I think that’s a blessing in disguise. I knew for awhile it was ending. There were some days he just wouldn’t settle down for me. Some day’s he’d rather watch Gilmore Girls with me instead of sleep. Some day’s he’d rather have sweet potatoes then mommy time. I never thought “This time could be the last time.”
But one day it was.
In a act of desperation late one night when he just wouldn’t settle down. I turned down his light, grabbed his blanket and laid with him in his rocking chair. We tried. I offered it to him and his face was priceless. If he could have called me insane, he probably would have. It was like he had no memory of what that was even for.
Right there in that chair my heart shattered.
I was never one of those mom’s that adored breast feeding, but now that its really over. I am remorseful that I never took the time to appreciate it more.