Bye, bye breastfeeding

As I woke up this morning to the sounds of Bettie chit chatting in her crib, I had the same mixed emotions I’ve experienced every morning for the past 225 days. An innate draw to get up and respond to her needs, as well as a deep desire to “hit snooze” and go back to sleep. But today, Steve was able to get up and feed her while I gratefully pulled the covers back up and shut my eyes. As of this weekend, I am officially done breastfeeding our little baby girl. I know it will offer new freedoms (and more zzz’s!) but my heart is still adjusting to the idea of the change.

I didn’t go into motherhood with any major need to breastfeed. I was aware that sometimes it worked well for people and other times it just didn’t. I had an open mind and was committed to be comfortable with whatever decision worked for us. But then, it did work. Right from the get-go, she latched on and all I could do was think about making sure she was fed. Despite the pain, the infections, the ugly-ass bras, the massive time commitment, the rushing, the apologies for being late to most things, the camera-less meetings with photos of my baby pulled up on my screen, the intense bout of mastitis that left me dizzy and weak, and the inability to consume any dairy for fear of Bettie’s upset tummy, it worked. She was growing and she was happy. And there were so many good days and sweet moments. But when I finally was able to listen to my body and consider transitioning to formula, I didn’t quite know how to start. Thankfully, with the guidance of a few of my friends, I spent the last 6 weeks slowly weaning her off breast milk and she handled it like a champ.

So today, I’m giving my body a big pat on the back (and probably some pizza!) to say thanks for nourishing our little girl and for handling the physical and mental strain that came with 7.5 months of breastfeeding.