she is undeniably darling. last night when i was nursing her to sleep, she unlatched and looked up at me with the sweetest smile. i talked to her about what we'd done during the day, and what we'd do the next day, and that daddy would come home, and she just kept smiling and staring into my eyes. then she drifted off. it was SO heartwarming. things like that make all the hard, repetitive stuff worthwhile.

like the poop bomb she unleashed this afternoon all over herself and the bouncy seat.

I couldn't have been more serious about the "hard, repetitive stuff" line. To me, those infant months were so incredibly difficult, and the depths of sleep deprivation (and maybe a little PPD in there, too) nearly slayed me. (Oh, wait, that was the whole first two years of her life. I'm better now. Really. Swear.)

Knowing I was contributing the stuff that made Baby A grow so quickly was an emotional lifeline for me. No exaggeration. I'd look at her and think, Well, at least I'm getting that part right. At least I can do that. Some days I think nursing sustained me as much as it did her.

And here's a bit from a message I sent to family members and close friends on October 5, 2005. Baby A would have been sixteen months old:

Well, I've thought I've heard a two- or three-word combination here and there, and I know she uses "Baby" and "Me" to refer to herself, especially when she is hungry, but tonight Ava looked me in the eye and said, clearly and sweetly and unmistakably, "Me nurse." Wow! I think that counts as her first sentence.

Awwwww! I couldn't have chosen a better first sentence.

And here's a clip from a few months before that, when my girl was just about to turn one. My sister-in-law asked whether A. was still nursing. Simple answer: yes. But the spirit grabbed me, and I wrote this where one word would have done:

yes, she is still nursing about four times a day, but often we will skip a time if we're busy or away, or if she falls asleep in the car. sometimes she'll be really brief or refuse a session after a couple sips. it's funny, she has her own way of doing it, too. she arranges my hands where she wants them (usually *off* of her, emphatically!) and props her top foot up on me a certain way. i love it. it is such an amazing way to sort of reconnect with each other physically and emotionally, which is nice now that she's becoming more independent.

soon i think we'll be down to two or three times a day, and it will probably dwindle from there, i imagine. at twelve months, she can start having cow's milk. i will probably start giving her whole milk at lunch instead. i know it might sound silly to go on about it, but besides growing and giving birth to her, nursing is the most wonderful thing i have ever done. i will really miss it whenever it ends.

"Dwindle from there"? Who was I kidding? We would continue nursing more more than a year and a half after that, until Baby A. was two and a half. Never, ever thought that would be me. But I do miss it. As with so many things in parenting, the baby teaches you things you never would have learned otherwise. For us, it was just so right. But today A. would much rather stick a lollipop in her mouth.

So I'm here in my tiny corner of the blogosphere, supporting as loudly as I can every parent's choice and freedom to feed their babies as they see fit, where and when they see fit. So come on over, pull up a chair, and feel free to leave that blanket in the diaper bag.

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