Ok so in reality what it really is, is my son's 1-year birthday. He had his party, which I begrudgingly granted my mother-in-law who was crestfallen when we first told her that a party was not going to happen. Back to the point. One year of breastfeeding, he had his party, now I am having mine.
What are the things I have had to deal with?
1. My mom constantly asking me how much longer I am planning to breastfeed. At first I didn't pay her any mind, I'm used to shrugging off the things she says. Lately though it's been really getting on my nerves, partly because she never stops asking and partly because her motives for wanting me to stop are completely irrelevant. Those motives as I see them are: so I can finally get to doing real exercise and get back to a size 4, so she can take the baby places without me, so my boobs can shrink back to normal size and I can wear correct-fitting clothes again, and so the baby doesn't become too much of a mama's boy.
2. A baby who is big enough to start really hurting me when nursing. He is a high-strung fidgety kind of kid, even when he is nursing to fall asleep he constantly kicks me in the stomach and pinches me.
3. Teeth. Lots of them.
4. Solid food on the boob. This is pretty disgusting. He will be eating fried chicken then 10 minutes later will want to nurse. Open wide! What do I see? Bits of chicken in his mouth ready to be washed down with breastmilk. Ick.
5. Pumping. I am so sick of pumping now I must confess. The good thing is, I hardly ever pump anymore. I have been breastfeeding long enough now that i'm pretty confident my supply is constant. So long as I am not away from him for more than 6 hours at a time then I don't have to bring a pump around. At this age babies also don't drink that much milk anymore, so demand is also lower.
6. Missing my boobs. My old boobs. The reasonable-sized ones that were high up on my chest and didnt' make me look like i was going to tip over because they messed with my center of gravity.
I used to say I will know when to stop breastfeeding because I would never get used to the idea of a toddler walking over to me in his shoes and shorts asking for dede. Yet here I am. You know why I'm still doing it? Because weaning is hard. It is hard for me, hard for baby, hard for daddy. It is a long project and is going to be emotionally draining. So I postpone because I'm a coward. I do expect to be fully depressed once he weans. It'll be so sad. I'll have more freedom, but i'll miss it so.
