The Last Supper
I just left my baby girl napping upstairs with tears pouring down my face. This is the last time I will nurse her, and the last time I will nurse period. I am 45 years old and I nursed two children, my son until he was 4 and now my daughter, who is almost 3. I am one of those moms who loved nursing. This experience is bittersweet for me because we are both very ready to be complete, and yet letting go of the sweetness of nursing is a big grieving moment. It is a pause to acknowledge her growing up, me getting older, and in my case, moving into two separate households at the end of the month. In addition to completing weaning, last night was the first night I slept away from her since she has been born.
I am very ready to recalibrate the scales of my life between balancing motherhood and me as a woman, leader, lover, and business owner. My life has been out of balance since becoming a mother 11 years ago. Much of this time it was by conscious choice, and there is plenty of time that I unconsciously defaulted into a caretaker role that has kept me from shining my light as fully as I can and want to. This month, this ending with nursing (and my marriage), I am claiming that I will not use taking care of my children as an excuse to stay small anymore.
It is so easy as a mother of young children to default to using the amount of energy it takes to parent as an excuse to not shown up in our fullest potential. Heck, society rewards mothers who are martyrs – who put everyone else’s needs before their own. WTF!?
Wouldn’t we all be so much better off it that were not the case and we made a choice to take great care of our kids and receive support from others and declare that our contribution to the world is equally as important?
We can be amazing moms, incredible partners, sexy lovers, and badass bosses all at the same time. It’s called being a QUEEN! None of these areas need to be compromised to be wildly successful in all. It takes excellent boundaries, clarity around our desires, and equal devotion to honoring and nurturing all aspects of ourselves.
I’m trying to teach my kid’s this version of success, especially my daughter who will be a woman in this world someday. In some ways I have failed, in some ways I have succeeded. Either way I keep trying each day to be a better version of myself to model for them. I talk with them about the ways I haven’t quite shown up as fully as I want to. I am vulnerable with them about where I could use improvement.
Being a mom has been one of the greatest gifts of my life hands down, and it is not the only greatness in my life. One of the ways I have navigated ending nursing gracefully is to recognize it as the initiation it is, and have a simple ceremony. When my son stopped nursing, we held a ceremony with another boy who was a close friend. Both mothers and fathers were present, as well as a chosen elder for each family. We made each child a pouch. Us moms chose a crystal to represent our love and the fathers had tokens that represented transitioning into boyhood. We had two large cedar branches that we used as a threshold. We were on one side with the boys and the fathers were on the opposite end. The elders held the branches in an arch. We said a few words to the boys and gave them their crystals and a big hug and sent them on their way, crossing the threshold, to their dads. Their dads welcomed them as little men, giving them words of strength and encouragement with their gifts. It was simple, sweet, and a really beautiful way to honor the shift.
Today, upon completion of nursing my baby girl, my job is to be present with my grief and allow the tears to flow so when she wakes up I can authentically meet her with celebration about how big of a girl she is. I will honor her, just the two of us, with a token gift of a bracelet with heart, symbolizing my unending love and support as she steps forth into her next unfolding. Tomorrow, once she has gone her first day without milk, we will celebrate as a family and give her a balloon bouquet and a special dessert.
Honoring our children as they cross these huge developmental thresholds is a valuable tradition to revitalize and reincorporate back into our busy, fast moving lives. Slowing down for these moments allows a sense of depth, connection, and acknowledgement that supports integration and wholeness for us as mothers and for our children. It nurtures a thriving family culture instilling confidence, celebration, and support. Will you take the time to grieve as they change and have a few minutes of intentional time creating initiation thresholds for your children to step into their next phase of independence?
Dare to Desire-
Kristen