Today marks the first day that my son is officially weaned from nursing. I made it past a year, but I didn't make it to my goal of 18 months. I just couldn't do it anymore. From day 1 I have had problems with nursing. I got motion sickness every time I nursed him for the first 4 months. Motion sickness! I had never even heard of that until I got it. On top of getting sick and dizzy with every nursing, I constantly had plugged ducts and got mastitis over and over. For those of you who don't know what mastitis is, it is an infection in the boobie. And it hurts. Oh my dog does it hurt. It also comes with flu-like symptoms that knock you on your butt. This last time I got it was the last straw. It is hard enough to take care of 3 kids without feeling like you've been hit by a truck.
The decision came with lots of tears, changing my mind 20 times, and of course...pain. I know I have portrayed nursing as some kind of medieval torture, but in reality, it is the most amazing gift I have been given as a mother. Knowing that I can nourish my child with my own body is such a feeling of accomplishment. Even with all the baby weight I still loved my body because of my ability to keep my new baby alive. The other magical aspect of nursing came with the bonding. Staring into my son's big blue eyes while he ate was my favorite time with him when he was first born. I knew that he knew exactly who I was and that he could count on me. It made me feel loved, and needed, and that always outweighed the nausea and pain.
Alas, the time has come to say goodbye to this wonderful experience. My little Philly now sits in his highchair and eats with the family.
He can rely on his sippy when he is thirsty, and he has learned that he can count on Mommy to care for him no matter where the food is coming from.
My days of being a human vending machine are over, possibly forever. I'll miss it and I'm sure I will cry about it for weeks to come, but on the bright side I can now cry about it with a glass of chardonnay.