Today is the eighth day of Christmas, and fittingly? ironically? (I think it is actually an appropriate use of the word...) last night for the first time N turned up her nose at the chance to nurse to sleep. She was probably already full, but even that will not usually stop her from nursing at bedtime, but last night, she literally pushed me away.
Far from upsetting me, it actually makes me glad -- it is much easier to think about weaning when she seems totally over it. She smiled up at me right after, and was happy to cuddle while I rocked her to sleep. As she drifted off, a few tears popped in my eyes, not from sadness but at how happy I am to see her growing up so strong. She is so incredibly independent, even now. It reminds me a lot of me, and I think that along with the courageous, idealistic parts of that personality trait, she might also get some of the difficult parts, too -- wanting to grow up more quickly than she should, having a hard time living in the present; that sort of thing. And so I cried a bit while wondering if I have really done the best I could by her. Did I do as much as I could for her in her nursing days? Does she know I love her? Can she ever really know?
In that moment I realized that these questions will not ever really go away. I will always wonder, whether I am putting her in her crib after her first non-nursing night, or sending her to kindergarten or driving her to college for the first time. I'll never really know the answer but I can do my best in the moment.
Happy New Year!