Well. It has been a REALLY long time since I have had no one to nurse. But here we are. Emma and I went to Toys R Us today and chose her weaning present. After a long, exhaustive search, she finally chose Barbie swim goggles and a stuffed giraffe. Boy, is she easy! For a while she was looking at bikes, then at the Rose Petal Cottage (a playhouse), various doll accessories, a bouncy house--and then she went back to the stuffed animals and chose this giraffe. I congratulated her, and while we waited in the short line, she looked around and asked, "Are all the kids here getting a weaning present?"
I told her that she was most likely the only kid here getting a weaning present.
Am I sad? A little, I guess. Emma is my last baby, and now that she is no longer nursing I have no choice but to face all the other evidence that she is a real child now, no longer my sweet little rosy baby. I have to face that I am now in the next stage of my life as a mother--the one where all my kids are heading into childhood and the teenage years (if they survive that long, anyway!) and I have no more babies to cuddle. When we were at the toy store I was looking around with nostalgia at the baby toys and supplies. Remembering the first set of blocks we bought for Rachel, and when a Barbie seemed like the most grown up toy we'd ever contemplate. Looking at the sand toys and play sets I remembered all my kids when they were tiny, when spring wasn't complete till we'd gotten some buckets and shovels for the beach--now we are overrun with them, as though they multiplied when we weren't paying attention.
Maybe I'm a bit giddy at the thought of no more nursing bras. Maybe I'm hormonal with my body ceasing the milk production. I don't know. I'm sad and happy and excited and nostalgic all at once. I guess that's just part of being a mom. Now, when does my chest shrink???