I've breastfed Henry since the day he was born. He's always been a pretty good little eater and my plan all along has been to wean him around his first birthday. Over the weekend, I dropped his afternoon feeding and began giving him a sippy cup of milk/breastmilk. He did great!
I had been thinking about which feeding to drop next (he has about 5-6) and then, yesterday, he refused to nurse. I thought it was just a one time thing, but feeding after feeding yesterday, he rejected breastfeeding. I thought for sure he would at least nurse before bed, but no dice. And then he slept through the night without a peep and this morning, still no nursing! I don't know yet if it's because he's teething, sick, or just self-weaning. But from what I can tell, it looks like weaning.
Either way, I've been looking forward to this day for months and yet here I am feeling so emotional about it. I foolishly thought that I'd be the one choosing when Henry and I ended breastfeeding and yet here I am once again being reminded that some things are just out of my control. My baby is growing up, developing into a real person with likes and dislikes and opinions and I can't force him to be what I want. I'm pretty sure I will be learning this lesson over and over for the rest of my life. Or at least until my children are well in to adulthood.
I'm feeling all sad and angsty over this huge change in our relationship. I'm trying to look on the bright side and be thankful that I got to nurse him for the last 11 months and 19 days.
Two week old Henry in a milk coma
And once I stop feeling sad, I will have lots to celebrate... Jon can get up with Henry at night! I can drink as much coffee as I want! I can wear a real bra again! I won't need to pump at work! I can drink when I want! My boobs will go back to a more reasonable size! I can leave the baby with someone else for more than 3 hours at a time! Basically, weaning = freedom. Also emotional turmoil and sadness, but then the sweet sweet freedom. I'm looking forward to that part.