I went to a baby shower last weekend that was nestled under the hill next to the hospital where I gave birth. I even missed the turn in and got to drive by the building, the gray end of day light bouncing gold off the windows, & I wondered, which room was mine? H & I made it through an hour and a half of the shower, his quick snatching (whew boy, toddlers are QUICK) of ‘items not to be messed with,’ and general screeching & yelling let me know it was time to head home. I luckily got to sit next to the mama to be during dinner and felt my heart melt as I looked down at her belly & spoke to her about what is to be. H sat on my lap immersed in a cupcake decorated with acorns & foxes. I dipped a napkin in water & wiped away chocolaty icing without half even knowing that I was doing it.
This time two years ago I was waking up four to five times a night, staying up late, and sleeping in. I was traveling to Portland to visit yoga studios, breast feeding classes, & vegan bakeries. I was bored. I cleaned & cooked dinner. H kicked while we watched the Olympics & I crocheted a baby blanket. I remember going into his room and just sitting there for long moments. It was so peaceful in there & I just wondered & wondered. What is he going to be like? What is it going to be like?
The indescribable moment between, holy damnation when am I going to push the pushes of all pushes & push this bb out, to having the dr. hand you over a tiny, wrinkly, lovable, little alien looking baby & all the sudden that baby that was JUST in your tummy is now breast feeding?!?
And from that moment on wondering, where is my baby? Is he alright? And if you can reaching out to touch him so that you know he’s okay & right next to you.
Always reaching out to make sure he’s okay and that he’s right next to you.
How did he grow from such a small baby into such a big toddler? How is it that he is almost already TWO?!
Still so close even when far away.
He’s going on a couple trips with my parents in the next couple months. I’ve felt anxiety. On a plane & states away from me. Last night I remembered seeing a bag of grapes in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator. I almost went downstairs to get them out and put them higher (did it this morning instead). I left a blanket on his noise machine to cover the light. I couldn’t sleep, thinking, what if it falls on his face? So silly, I crept back in to take it off.
There will be times when I won’t be there. This fact is something I mostly refuse to comprehend. I try to find peace in the knowledge that I am there most of the time & I try to trust that great mysterious higher power that he will be okay.
That he is always watched over.



I’ll be weaning H after his birthday. Breast feeding has been a cake walk (as far as him taking to it), I remember walking around with him in the hospital, attached to my breast. The nurse said, is this your second one? I said no, first. She said, wow. It must have been the easy way I held him while he nursed, I don’t know. He never took to a pacifier, he has just always been very content with the boob.
And now it’s time to get him off of it. I feed him mostly at night. My parents don’t want him to be shocked when they take him on vacation. I’ve had issues with breast feeding, I have been way over it, I had the rashes that burned and itched. It hurt like hell when I first started.
But I don’t want to let it go.
It’s another remnant of his babyhood. It soothes him. But it’s time. I thought I would be overjoyed to stop. I guess I’m surprised that I’m not. He’s gotten to the age where he understands stuff. I’ve been gently telling him the boob is going bye bye. He understands & he’s not happy about it.
But it will ultimately be okay I know.
Pictures of the BIG TWO to follow.
Wishing you all smooth & gentle transitions. Sending out peace & love to those in between, awkward places.
~Namaste.
Hug. Children are beautiful and always changing.
I remember weaning my first. He was around 18 months old and I was pregnant again. I was tired. And one night, we just stopped, no drama.
Perhaps I was holding on to it.
That boy is almost 13 now. He is taller than me. It’s hard to imagine.
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Ahhh, Liz, this is so beautiful ❤️
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