On the end of breastfeeding.

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Awwwwwwww.

Archer has been slowly weaning himself for the last few months. He has been having just an evening feed since about his birthday on June 7. I always thought I would breastfeed until he was a bit older, purely because I was lucky to have no problems feeding him and I loved our special bonding time. But I guess 13 months is quite a while to nourish a human from your body. How amazing are women? Boobs are the most awesome things ever.

We have had a bedtime ritual of dinner, bath/shower, reading books whilst breastfeeding, then in bed. He has being doing this same routine for all his life, and is a great sleeper (finally! He was terrible for the first six months or so until we sleep trained). But recently he is much more interested in reading books than feeding, and has bitten me a few times. God, the biting is painful. I keep telling Lee “Imagine putting your penis into a venus fly trap!” Just for some context.

So last Monday night I just didn’t feed him. Lee read him some books, offered some warm dairy milk in a cup, then put him to bed. We are at the point now where Arch will point at his cot when he wants to go to bed, then grab his teddy and hop in with no fuss. It felt bittersweet (I’M FREEEEEEEEEE!!! / Sob!) because he doesn’t need me for food anymore, but I guess he hasn’t needed me for food since he began wolfing down solids six months ago.

I’ll miss the little noises he made while he was feeding, and the crazed little wide-eyed head shake he would do when attaching, like he hadn’t eaten for days. The pain of the first few months (breastfeeding hurts at first! And I didn’t even have mastitis or low supply to deal with.) and the relief of let-down after I hadn’t fed him for a while. The convenience of feeding in shopping centres, waiting rooms, restaurants, cafes, trams, lying down in bed, while carrying him around and in the early days, feeding him in his sleep.

Thanks, little guy. It’s been great.

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