It's done. I didn't breastfeed HD today. I likely won't breastfeed HD tomorrow or the day after that, and perhaps, I will never breastfeed again. Before I started breastfeeding, I certainly didn't think much about it. Before I was pregnant, I'm sure I never thought about it at all (well, aside from the time that the nurse in my sister's post-delivery room told me I had great boobs for breastfeeding when I was all of 22). I definitely didn't think I would ever write about it.
It turns out, after all the drama, all the, "I don't know if I can do it anymore," all the "I really don't like it," "I'm doing it because they tell me I should," it's not as immediately freeing as I thought it would be.
HD did his typical-of-late, wake up on and off between 4:30 and 6, with a final wake-up call of 7:15. BH was up already and gave him breakfast. I got up 20 minutes later and started making the bed when I realized I hadn't breastfed HD (we had confirmed this plan the night before). I yelled down to the kitchen, "Hey, I didn't breastfeed him." BH replied, "yeah, I know."
Me: Is he eating breakfast?
BH: Yeah.
Me: Did you give him milk?
BH: Yeah, he's having it with his breakfast.
Me: But, he doesn't even need me? He's not acting crazy? He's not panting for me?
BH: Nope.
I went downstairs and sat next to HD who gave me a big good morning smile.
Me to HD: Um, so, you're done? That's it? You don't even need me anymore? What are you? A toddler? I can't believe this. It's so...anticlimactic.
HD to me: Yesshhh.
Okay, so I might have embellished his part, but we actually do think that YES is his first word. He just might not have said it at that time. I had a really hard time listening to him after my dramatic rhetoric was finished.
So there it is. It appears I was weaned, not HD. Now, I'm going to watch Lois do this so I can benefit from her insights and laugh like I mean it about this whole thing.
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