Jude is almost a year old and I always said that once we hit that milestone, I would begin to wean him since it’s acceptable for him to drink whole milk. It’s been on my mind more frequently lately since pumping doesn’t seem to work for me any longer (I only get an ounce at most! What a change from the beginning!). I have talked about how weaning would give me so much freedom. We could finally leave him with someone over night, I wouldn’t have to be there with him when he woke up in the morning to feed him. I could fully have my body back, albeit in an altered state. It all sounded so amazing. Not to mention how I initially thought it would be weird to nurse my little one as he got bigger. . .
And now one year is almost upon us and I am struggling. We have started to introduce him to whole milk and he seems to enjoy it. In fact, it’s been used several times to put him to sleep at night, with no problem. And it almost makes me sad. I never thought I would say it but I am going to miss breastfeeding. I never would have guessed this to be my reaction in the early days, when it felt like such a struggle, an inconvenience. But now, I pick him up in the morning and we snuggle and giggle while he eats. It’s really the only time that he willingly stay still and cuddle for an extended amount of time. Once this stops, we won’t have these moments of quiet, snuggles and giggling. He won’t fall asleep in my arms any longer and I am going to miss seeing his sweet sleeping face drawn in near to me. It makes my heart a little sad to think of life without these things.
I do recognize that it’s an option to continue breastfeeding, many people do, but I know that it’s time for us to move on. There are selfish reasons involved (so tired of my nursing bras and I would love a weekend away) and practical (other people being able to put him to sleep, no more worries about getting bitten). In my heart, I know that this is the right decision for us. But until the weaning is complete, I will be treasuring these quiet moments with him while I still have them. Holding on to the last lingering memories of my baby before he fully turns into a little boy.