I’ve started to wean Kulia and my heart is torn in two.

Part of me knows it is time. She doesn’t need it anymore. Nursing lasts about 2 minutes in the morning and then she hops down, runs to the fridge, and bangs on the door until I get her a cup of milk. I love the idea of getting rid of my nursing bras and being able to wear a dress instead of the dreaded t-shirt and pants. I’m ready to re-claim my body as my own.

But the other part of me weeps at the thought of weaning. Kulia wakes up like me. Grumpy to the point of violence. She rises irritable from her afternoon nap. I grab her from the crib and we curl up together. Since Leina is usually still asleep, she nurses and doses for about 20 minutes and I get to hug her and marvel over her long lashes, little chubba fingers and fine baby hair. It’s our time when she’s still my little snuggle buggle for just a moment longer and I don’t want to let that go.

Of course, this morning after a quick nursing, she lifted up my shirt and began pinching my nipple and laughing hysterically. I’d pull my shirt down and she’d lift it back up and pinch. I’m thinking that’s a sign it’s time close up shop. But oh, it has been a wonderful special thing and I know that the days of holding a sleeping baby in my arms are sadly numbered.