Everyone talks about milestones.
Hearing the heartbeat for the first time, finding out the gender, reaching full term, giving birth, first latch, first night at home, rolling over, sitting up, crawling, first tooth, first solid foods, first word, walking and they go on and on and on.
I didn’t read much about another (now very) significant and emotional and intense milestone: the last time I would breastfeed (this baby).
On Tuesday night (4/7), Jennie nursed for the last time. 12 months and 18 days.
I didn’t have strong views on breastfeeding when I was pregnant. I figured I would give it a try to see how it would go. There were many ups (the beautiful connection with my baby) and downs (nursing strikes, pumping at work) along the way but it turned out to be something I truly loved and appreciated and I feel lucky I was able to do it.
Bottom line, I am really sad. I wasn’t ready and I am having a hard time accepting that it is over. She wasn’t showing any signs of stopping so it was very abrupt and surprising when she didn’t want to nurse! I am as emotional as I was when I was pregnant and during the weeks after giving birth. My hormones are wild and my boobs hurt and my body feels out of whack (which is affecting my running).
I said I would let her wean herself and I did. She must have decided that she was a big girl as soon as she turned one! Thanks for the memories, it’s been an honor baby girl!