Time keeps on slippin' ...

Went through the baby's clothes again yesterday and put away a whole bunch of cute little things. I really hate putting away the ones she never got to wear for one reason or another.

Lately, every time I nurse her I can't help thinking that I won't have this much longer. She's going to be starting on solids in a few weeks. From there on it's all downhill in a frantic dash to the cup, to weaning and an end to breastfeeding. And, since there is an excellent possibility that this is my last, I'll probably never get to experience nursing again.

I love nursing. I've always found it a very positive experience (thanks to the oxytocin rush!) As soon as she latches on I lose my breath for just a few moments. Then euphoria bubbles up from behind my breastbone, and if I give in to it I'll start to giggle or even laugh out loud. A millisecond later I want to pull the baby away from her meal, cuddle her tightly and kiss her all over her sweet, fuzzy little head. This all flashes by in, probably, less than a second, leaving me with a lingering feeling of love and adoration of this suckling infant. I spend the rest of our time in wonder and amazement, contemplating how beautiful she is and how lucky I am to be her mother.

If I could sit in the center of a filled champagne flute, the bubbles rising all about me, it would remind me of that half a second let down rush. Not a bad reaction to have at 4 a.m. when the baby has just woken me for the third time since I went to bed.

But that's not the only reason I'll miss nursing. I'll miss having a little one cuddled up to me, getting to coo over those rounded cheeks, closed eyes and dark eyelashes. You know, the stuff we all enjoy, regardless of how the baby is fed. I'll even miss the playful times, when I can't get her settled down long enough to get full because she's too busy pulling away to grin at me.

Oh heck, I'll just miss having a baby around.