The fact that I even kept up with nursing my child for fifteen months is a bit of a miracle. I was ready to stop at about four months. My strong willed infant, however, refused anything except my boob. She wouldn't even take my milk out of a bottle. It had to be my boob, fresh from the source and since I couldn't very well starve my child - continue to nurse we did. Eventually, ever so slowly, she weaned. Cut a few feedings here and there, moved to only before nap and bedtime, then just one bedtime feeding to get her to sleep.
I may not remember the last time but I will remember so many times before that. How she would instantly calm the moment she latched. How she would grip my finger to ensure I was still there. How she would laugh, with my boob still in her mouth, if I made a funny noise. How she would say, "more? more?" if I stopped her to soon. How she would drift off ever so slowly into sleep, eyelids blinking longer and longer and longer. How she would still suck, even though she was asleep, and curl up against me after I took out my breast.
I am so thankful I was able to feed her for so long. I will forever remember those sweet moments with my first child, how close it brought us, how much love passed every time we did it.
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