How many times do you actually realize that you are doing something for the last time? Often times it's not until you look back that you realize that the last was the last.
Today, right now, I am pumping at work for the last time. My daughter is 11.5 months old and I made the decision to start introducing cow's milk. She eats all sorts of other dairy with no problem and was down to having one small bottle of my milk during the day when I wasn't there (in addition to my nursing her when she wakes up and before she goes to bed at night). So to start I'm splitting my milk and cows milk and next week we'll probably go whole cow (pun intended).
I, as much as I hate this process, find myself feeling oddly nostalgic at this moment. Not so much for the actual pumping, but because another phase is coming to an end. And, more so, perhaps because I know it's coming to an end.
I guess maybe this is a feeling that all parents have to get used to that I think I was too tired and swept away to notice before: the bitter-sweet of passing milestones of any kind.
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