I feel the need to celebrate. To officially take “my ladies” into my hands and say – awesome job girls! you are amazing and wonderful and I am forever grateful for the work that you did.
I mean, let’s look at their accomplishment:
Okay that is the only exhibit I have, but really? what more do you need? He has turned out awesome. I really couldn’t have asked for a better baby. Not that I am saying my boobs did all the work. But they did provide great nourishment and a soft resting place for that sweet little noggin’ to lay on (obviously they will continue to do that).
In case you were curious, I have hung up the ladies for this round. Jack hasn’t nursed in a couple of days and to be perfectly honest it was more going through the motions than him getting any real nourishment anyway. The ladies seemed to be done. Was I done? That isn’t entirely known.
I have some mixed feelings; as is to be expected. I guess I am not as sad as I thought I would be, but I am still a little sad. Sad that this means he is a big boy now; he is officially a toddler…..how the fuck did that happen? I swear I was pregnant with him yesterday. Sad that our special cuddle times, the times that only he and I shared, are over. But honestly, he is still so sweet and cuddly. He still wants to be held and rocked and he holds on to me as tight as I hold on to him.
So nothing is really lost. It was a good time to stop. The ladies were ready and Jack was ready. I imagined when we quit that he would be crying and clawing at my shirt and perhaps trying to whip out my ladies in front of a group of strangers or something. Truth be told, I think he was mostly nursing for me anyway.
Our morning nursings were the same, but that was because he was asleep when I would grab him before work. So obviously out of habit he was like ‘get that boob in my mouth!’. But our evening feedings were getting to be wrestling matches. Me trying to get him to lay horizontally in our nursing position and him fighting for his life not to be put to sleep. Obviously the evening feedings were the first to go. Then a couple of days ago I thought ‘why am I waking him up to nurse him?’. He is perfectly content sleeping for another couple of hours on his own.
GASP!!!! I could hear that from across the globe. Women everywhere gasping at the thought that I would wake Jack up from a contented sleep to nurse him before I went to work. I know you all would probably never think to do that. Ruin a perfectly good and sound sleep. Stay calm, it wasn’t like I was waking him up for the day. I just grabbed him from his crib. Brought him down to bed, nursed him on both sides, then rolled him over towards Andy where he would fall back asleep for another couple of hours.
But it was time. He didn’t seem to be attached to nursing anymore and so I guess me stopping was sort of just a test. Would he miss it. He didn’t miss the elimination of the evening feeding and he doesn’t seem to notice that he is no longer being woken up to eat in the morning. Therefore…..it looks like we’re done folks.
No engorgement after 3 days tells me the ladies were ready for me to make this decision. It is funny how my relationship with my boobs has drastically changed over my lifetime. As a teenager I wanted them to be bigger. Then when they rose to the occasion I found myself a little jealous of girls who could not wear a bra…..I know I know ladies who didn’t need to wear a bra felt differently, grass is always greener and what not.
Well before I ever got pregnant I knew I wanted to breastfeed. I didn’t really picture anything else. I just saw myself nursing my baby, that was it. Obviously I didn’t know how things would go. I don’t think I realized how painful the beginning would be….I know lots of people say ‘it shouldn’t be painful at all!’, but let me tell you, our latch/position/everything, was just exactly right and it was still painful for several days as my nipples got used to the fact that someone was going to be putting them in their mouth every 1-2 hours for the next foreseeable future.
Things went better than I could have imagined though. Jack had no issues and after our initial latch pain things went swimmingly……a little too swimmingly actually. Who could have predicted we would have so much success breastfeeding that bottle feeding would actually be an issue? I couldn’t have guessed that one. I guess there are always surprises though.
As a first time breastfeeder, I didn’t exactly know how milk transitions. I was told my supply would start out big and then tailor itself to fit Jack, but there were still obviously worries when my supply took a seemingly drastic drop. I honestly wasn’t sure if we would make it and if the pediatrician hadn’t given us the go-ahead to start cow’s milk at 10 months, we probably wouldn’t have made it.
For all the months I spent worrying about feeding Jack, whether I could do it for a full year, getting my supply up when it seemed down, etc I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that eventually I would have to stop. When it almost happened on it’s own, I was almost desperate to save it and then I kind of let go a little. Took a step back and let things figure themselves out. And here we are…..weaned. It is quite a feeling looking back at the journey my tatas have taken. I am so appreciative to them for serving me well.
I know I am a crazy lady, but thank bejezis you dudes are here. So hats off to my chesticles. Good run ladies!!!! I know you are both extremely happy to be back into attractive undergarments as opposed to floppy underwire-less nursing bras and tops. Support is definitely a good thing.
I don’t think this really needs to be said, but obviously this post is not meant to hold any opinion on breastfeeding vs. formula, this is just a straight up celebration of my boobs.