Weaned

Last night I was expecting to cry a little after I nursed Gavin and put him down in his crib. I had built up the moment in my head to be something more than it was. Maybe I will cry tonight when Ryan puts him to bed while I'm hiding well out of sight in the basement. See, last night was the end of nursing for me and Gavin. From his first day in this world I fed him through thick and thin, in sickness and in health. I nursed him through the intense pain that came after the breast biopsy went so horribly wrong even though the surgeons told me if I wanted to heal I would have to quit nursing. I nursed him at midnight, 2, 4 and 6 am for a long, long, long time. I think those nights having Ryan mix up a bottle was the most tempting.

Over the last couple of months I gently put a stop to nursing on demand. Once Gavin knew the sign for milk he would do walk by "milkings". With a toy in hand he would toddle over to me and say, "Uh, huh, uh" while pumping his hand in the milk sign. After a quick swig he break the latch and continue playing. I started to feel like a drive through milk machine. I set up a little schedule and he had 4 nursings a day. After the first month of that I cut out one each week and the last two weeks he has only been getting my milk before bedtime.

The last two weeks have been very special for me as I knew our special time together was soon coming to an end. The last couple of weeks his evening nursing was in our bedroom as I wanted to separate his room for nursing in his head. Now his room is for playing in the day and sleeping at night. I really enjoyed our time together lying in my bed. There I could smell his sweet baby head and say bedtime prayers. But as each day passed he became pickier and pickier about nursing. He still wanted to nurse but I think two things started to happen. My milk is changing since I'm pregnant and I think that has affected the taste. Gavin did not like this change. After nursing on one side for a fraction of the time he normally would he would pull off and say, "Nee!" (translation: "no") and push me away if I tried to put him back on the same side. So the last couple of weeks that is how nursing has been going, left, right, left, right, left. Actually, it was more like, left, Nee!, right, Nee! left, Nee! right, Nee! Until last night he nursed each side twice for maybe a grand total of 90 seconds. Then it was Nee to both boobs and he started to wiggle and flipped over on his tummy so he could stand up.

He was done and I was done. Now he has roughly six months to forget that he ever had such a strong attachment to nursing. I expect there will be some jealousy on his part when his brother or sister arrives and we don't need jealousy over the boob to be an extra thorn in his side. Besides, he's 18 months. That's as long as I ever said I wanted to go.

I have a friend who said she wanted at least a year of having her body back to herself before she got pregnant with a second child. I can see how that would be nice. My body has not been my own for 2 and 1/4 years (pregnancy + Gavin's age) and it won't be mine for at least another 1 1/2 to 2 years. That will be a 4 years of being pregnant &/or nursing. Who knows, if (WHEN) we have a third child it could tack on another 2 years.

At least I'm enjoying this window in this pregnancy. Nausea is over and fatigue has waned and swelling has not yet started. My belly is starting to pop out a little - I start to feel more connected to the baby when I can see such an obvious sign. I don't know how much longer I can wear my regular pants. I noticed in church today that my pants kept sliding below my protruding tummy. Time to get out the Bella Band.