This weekend marked the end of two year-long eras for me as I happened to end two weans on the same night. First, I finished my 3-month-long wean from Lexapro, which I started around this time last year when my brain broke the first time I thought I was watching Collin die. I was scared to death to start an SSRI -- who am I kidding, I was terrified of everything at that point -- but I am SO GLAD I had the courage to take them anyway so I had a chance to heal and get back to life with my new family. I would gladly take them the rest of my life if it turned out that I needed them, but the wean went very smoothly and I still feel like myself. Which is to say that I have lots of hard moments and days, because it would be weird if I didn't. I've had a few more of these the past couple of days, but it has nothing to do with the wean. My friend Cristina, for whom March is also a very hard time owing to crushing, intolerable news about her son, wrote recently about how it's like your subconscious remembers that this is the time of year when the unthinkable happened and it manifests itself in your physical and emotional state. I have certainly been more tender and tired recently, but I'm just trying to take it a little easy on myself when I can.
The second wean I finished this weekend was from breastfeeding/pumping. I had continued pumping for a couple of weeks after Collin started the ketogenic diet while we made sure he didn't have any serious adverse reactions. When he didn't and we decided to commit to the diet for 3 months before making the call on whether to stick with it long term, I realized that even if we quit for some reason at 3 months, Collin would be past the point of needing breast milk. So, I started backing off and sticking everything in the freezer. At first, it was so nice to get back so much time, but I also felt sad not only about losing that one extra bond between me and Collin, but also just for the place pumping occupied in my day. It was a good way to wake up and to wind down for bed. I got tons of writing and reading and thinking done during those hours and not having them anymore is going to take some getting used to.
As a person who likes cycles and significance and completion, it feels fitting to me that both of these important things ended around the one year mark of our odyssey with Collin; I say 'odyssey', because 'journey' doesn't seem like quite a big enough word anymore.