The past couple of days, Keegan’s been refusing to nurse, and I didn’t know how this would break my heart. Sure, he could be teething, and perhaps he’ll resume, but he could also be done.

I had no warning.

I thought I’d have more time to watch how he watches me, how he plays with my hair (pulls, yanks, strips it from my head) while nursing, how I cuddle him close to me, how he sometimes falls asleep. And this is motherhood: little goodbyes as they grow up and start walking then start walking away from you. How does a heart handle this?

So last night, I woke up when I heard him at 4:00, hopeful that he needed me, though at the same time hoping he’d sleep through the night, but he didn’t need me; it was the latter, and within a minute, after soft whimpers, he had fallen back asleep on his own without his mama. And I spent the rest of the night in tears wondering when this happened, and I thought he would wean, I thought it would be slow, first the mid-day feedings would disappear then the morning, then that last feeding before he goes to bed. But last night he didn’t even want that last feeding.

This is how it’s supposed to be, I know, yes, I know that, but my heart hurts because in this way, my little boy doesn’t need me anymore, and he’s not really my baby anymore. He walks, and he knows what he wants and what he doesn’t want.

So I mourn this passing, but I remind myself that this is not it, this is not all there is to motherhood. (Funny that a woman who thought she’d have to get through the baby stage has to remind herself that there’s so much more than the baby stage.) We have more cuddling and playing and learning and dancing in our future, and this is how life moves, this loss and gain together, and it’s beautiful, watching my son develop, even when it means saying goodbye.