Burrow

Many times today darling little Finn burrowed his sweet little head into my chest. At the grocery store, too close to lunch and nap time, he actually pulled my shirt down and shoved his face between Bertha and Betty (I don't usually refer to them by name...but anyway...). Insert a big sigh here. Sadly, that was not the first public "outing" Finn has performed. He seems to have forgotten that we don't do that whole nursing thing anymore.

A few months ago he seemed to be naturally weaning himself. I was a little sad, but also amazed at how good it felt...like our planets aligned, the time was right, and it was just going to work for both of us. And now...I am feeling things I'd rather not. Wistful, longing, bittersweet, pained.

When he cries and burrows his warm little head right there, so close to my heart, I naturally want to pull down my shirt and let him do what nature intended. But, alas, that part of our relationship is over. And it hurts to deny him something so primal. And it hurts to know Bertha and Betty are out of commission. No more work for them...in the milk department, anyhow.

Wistful. I think that's the best way to describe it. Sigh, sigh, sigh. Grateful to have been able to share/experience it and wistful now that its over.