Since June of 2002 I have been pregnant with and/or nursing someone for all but five months. That's almost six years of my life spent sharing my body with someone else, either the space in it or nutrition from it. Cutie turned 13 months yesterday and I'm pretty sure she decided to give up nursing. We were down to once before bed anyway, I think it was just sort of her way to unwind and relax a little before bed. If she truly has given it up at least I know it was on her schedule, she's just grown past it. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a part of me that's now a bit sad knowing that the phase of my life where one of my jobs in life was in part to sustain another life, is over. A part of me is happy to have my body back to myself, and I know that my most important contributions to my children's lives is not really the pregnancy, or the nursing. It's helping them grow into the best people they can be. It's showing them how to love people, care for those around them, and to always do their best at whatever it is they choose to do. I look forward to this next phase of life, the kids growing into these really interesting and unique people, and I know it's what has to happen. But that little part of me that found a new purpose in life when I first got pregnant with Hot Wheels, feels a little loss of usefulness, and the part that really loved the possibilities and love that a baby brings will need some time to adjust.
Here she is, all "grown up".