I am sitting here watching J drink down a couple ounces of goat's milk with no breastmilk added. My throat tightens, I feel a deep pulling ache in my core as I watch my baby guzzle down milk that did not come from me without a problem. This ache also brings a sense of relief that if I can't pump enough milk, he'll drink goat's milk without a complaint. He's old enough that we are starting to transition him to goat milk anyway, so that after he turns one he will only be getting breastmilk from nursing when I'm home. I will be able to stop pumping in 13 work days, and J will be fine. He'll make the transition just fine. He'll keep growing and learning and soon he'll be cruising around and then he'll walk. Someday I will put him on a schoolbus, someday I will watch him graduate. I may see him get married one day.
I will treasure that bittersweet ache that I feel at every new milestone.