(First feed - minutes old)

I might start sobbing deep mumma sobs if I write too much about this today. I didn't think this would happen quite yet.

I thought I'd breastfeed B until closer to his second birthday, not just past his first. But I pulled the plug. It's over.

B has never "asked" for milk from me, ever. Sure, he's shown signs of wanting his next meal, but he's never done the shirt pull or the boob grab. Or never used my one word attempt at baby sign language: milk. Shocker.

I wasn't an on-demander or scheduled-provider, I just knew when his belly needed it. We just rolled.

I think his laid-back breastfeeding ways made the weaning process easier. It was so easy, it just sorta happened. We had weaned down to three times a day (before naps and bedtime) back in the fall, and slowly, eventually, to just bedtime. Plans were not really laid out, it just happened over a few months.

Until it was no more.

We didn't have a ceremonious last supper feeding. It was such a drawn out, slow process. It just dawned on me one day a week or so ago that we were done. That was it. *sobsobsob

So why did I decide to wean when I thought I'd still be breastfeeding? Well, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure. My gut was feeling that it was time way back in December. I was going back to a fuller work schedule in the New Year, the freezer stash was depleted (which carries its own stress), and pumping was yielding very little (what happened to those engorged, over-supply days?!). So there was stress about providing milk on the days I work, and I also just felt like I needed my body back, my hormones back. I just had a feeling that it was time.

So three months later, here we are, fully weaned.

Breastfeeding did not come easy to us (does it ever?). We definitely had our struggles in those first eight weeks (to the point of contacting Dr. Jack Newman himself), but we came out of it and sailed through the next year.

Even as I write this though, I'm not sure that I was (am?) really done with it. Was it the right time? B hasn't showed any displeasure in my decision, but this little sadness I have about us being done makes me question my decision to call it quits. But I also think I'd likely feel this same way five months from now if we stopped then. It's just a bit of sadness at never having that again, with him - that thing we did from hour one, that thing we did at 2am, in the same rocker that I was nursed in, in coffee shops, fancy restaurants, cars (yes, I mastered the car seat feed once or twice in desperate times) and airplanes.

Everyday for 14 months. For hours.

I LOVED breastfeeding. The quietness of it. It sounds so cheesy to say, but no mater where we were, or what was going on, it brought a sense of stillness. An inner peace. You can't be upset, or angry, or sad, or frustrated when you are nursing your wee one. I know, there will be more things, more milestones, that come and go, but there is just something about nursing your babe that pulls at your heartstrings.

Breastfeeding is oxytocin at it's best. It's powerful stuff.

How did weaning go for you?