As of now I have spent the equivalent of 14.67 years across seven children, nursing a baby.
I have also spent the equivalent of 5.5 years pregnant.
That's a lot of time and a good chunk of the almost 40 years that make up my life.
So, now, as I lay here feeding what may be my very last baby, I am coming to terms with the idea that this may be it... I may never again sustain a life outside of my own...
Do I feel relief? Sadness? Fulfillment? I am really not sure. What do I do now? What am I if I am no longer a life giver? Will I ever again serve as great a purpose? And what could compare? What could possibly be more important than this? But this is over and I am left with an empty womb, saggy breasts And a body that has miraculously done more than its fair share.
No more snuggling with a perfect baby as they nuzzle, feeling their warm breath on my chest, their fingers gently stroking and kneading that which feeds them. The smells of their hair so close, their forehead in the perfect position for placing gentle kisses on...
No more instinctively taking out a breast and placing them to it knowing that the power which I hold will solve all their problems, vanquish all their fears.
I am no longer connected by that most powerful bond, to anyone.
I am separate and on my own. My body now only has the task of selfishly nourishing only me.
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