The End of an Era

At 9 1/2 months of age, my son is officially done breastfeeding. I have been battling this for a long time because the nursing experience was not one without its complications for us. Liam and I battled thrush from approximately 6 days old until about 3 months old. Then the dreaded diagnosis of "milk and soy allergy" where I had to basically eat grilled chicken, rice and steamed vegetables for 3 months. Right about the time I could return to a normal diet was the time when Liam decided that he could look around the room and possibly roll over while eating...not so much... Then the teeth came...oh dear...

All the while, I never wanted to stop doing it. The determination was two fold - my desire to give Liam the best I could possibly give him and the bond that we had built through the rather difficult process. I figured, why stop now when the finish line was in sight? I was forced to start weaning at about 7 months due to illness and a decreased milk production, but had maintained at least 2 feedings a day since then. A couple of weeks ago I knew the end was drawing nigh. Now six teeth deep in the process, he had become increasingly restless and painful during feedings and I could tell that my milk production was waning. Then one night this past week I looked down at his sweet little face and realized how much he had grown from that tiny premature infant that I held in my arms not too long ago. It became clear to me that my sweet baby boy that had been transitioning from infant to toddler was composed of much more toddler than infant and that it was time to give it up. I wasn't sad, I was ready and I could tell he was ready too. Then, almost like a sign from God, he reached into the opposite side of my bra, squeezed my boob and cracked a smile. That was it. No more boobie for you kiddo. Sorry La Leche League, but if you're old enough to feel me up, you're old enough to get a bottle! And that was that.