Tuesday, November 27

The dairy is officially closed.

A reopening is not expected. At all. Ever.
I found this photo here. The closed was all me though
The jury is still out on how I feel about it all. Right now due to some ridiculously strong menstrual cramps combined with my no longer ignorable toothache it is hard to feel anything but the discomfort they bring. The cramps only worsened by the fact there is no need for a monthly cycle. My baby making days are over. If only there was a button to turn the biological clock off when ready.

When my next birthday rolls around in March, I will turn thirty five. Not old I know and certainly not too old for some women to have children at. It is however plenty old enough for this woman to declare herself as past child bearing age.

It's not like I haven't already done my part any way. I have had a child to replace Mr Awesome and I as well as a spare. Or one for the country as some might say. There is no need for me to continue to procreate.

Sure I love having babies around the house, they bring with them a certain aurora that is hard to find elsewhere. Only they do grow up. And that is more what concerns me. Babies I can handle. They cry you give them a boob. They don't want the boob, then change the nappy. Still making a noise then cuddle them to they sleep. Easy. No arguments or complaints, it is a time where the simplicity of life is truly embraced. Or at least for me that's how it was.

Not like when they get older and can talk and tell demand the life they see fit for themselves. Or try to argue reason with you till you are both blue in the face. All of this before they have even reached the doorsteps of puberty. My poor little head feels like it is going to explode when I am forced to acknowledge that my eleven year old baby will have finished primary school in just a few short weeks.

How can that be? How did those days years slip by?

Miss Two has taken the closure much better than I expected. She hadn't really indicated any keenness for the relationship to end but I felt the time was right. I selfishly wanted my boobs back. They deserved to be retired from the milking gallery, having served all three girls very well. For which I feel more than blessed.

The first time I was pregnant the only thing I worried about was not being able to breastfeed. To me this starry eyed twenty three year old amazed that my motherhood desire was actually coming true so soon, it was the most important thing ever. Thankfully my concerns were totally unfounded and baby number one took to feeding like a duck to water. We both did.

The next time round was a different story though. While baby number two was keen and appeared to be doing all the right things I was in a world of excruciating pain. The kind of pain that can only come with cracked and bleeding nipples. I couldn't believe I had spent so long looking forward to rekindling the beauty of breastfeeding.

It was the worst thing ever.

Well at least for the first three months. After that I seemed to have toughen up and it suddenly became beautiful. Miss Two was somewhere in between. I had braced myself for so much pain that what I got seemed quite bearable. Jedi mind tricks and all that.

How did you feel when your breastfeeding journey 
came to an end for the very last time?