weaning

I wasn't aware of it then, but I think Libby nursed for the last time this week. But let me start at the beginning of the end.

My goal was always to nurse Libby for a year. As the year mark approached, I decided that I would keep nursing her when she woke up and at bedtime, but wean her from her two mid-day feedings, which were also my two workday pumping times. I was so tired of pumping and wouldn't have the time to do so in the middle of the day during the HOW conference I was scheduled to host in Washington, DC two weeks after her first birthday. And I wanted to make sure she would take cow's milk from a bottle. Otherwise, I was actually going to have to ramp up the pumping in order to have enough breastmilk for her while I was gone (she'd always had breastmilk exclusively, so I didn't want to introduce formula at this point). So two weeks before her first birthday, we introduced cow's milk twice a day with no problem.

With that worry behind me, I phased out the pumping but was determined to nurse her in the morning and at bedtime until she was ready to wean. I figured breastfeeding was still healthier, easier and cheaper, and I genuinely still enjoyed nursing her. About a week after her first birthday, she started getting her upper two teeth and, consequently, biting me while she nursed. I tried to reprimand her without making her cry, but I wasn't having much luck in getting her to actually nurse, especially at bedtime. A few days later, I left for the HOW conference with my pump in tow. Kevin had frozen breastmilk to give Libby in the morning and at bedtime, and cow's milk to send to Katie's house. The morning feedings went OK, but she wouldn't take the bottle at bedtime. Since she eats dinner fairly close to bedtime, we decided to give her a cup of milk during dinner and to cut out the nighttime bottle. Meanwhile, I pumped at the conference to keep my waning supply up, hoping she'd be over the biting and would nurse willingly after not seeing me for 4 days.

She was already in bed when I got home from my trip Saturday night. When she woke up Sunday morning, she was so excited when I went into her room to get her up. She nursed eagerly without biting. I was sleepy, but I was more focused on her than usual since I had been away and missed her so much. I talked to her a little, studied her little face and hands, stroked her arm. It was a lovely experience that both of us seemed very "present" for, the way it should be, the way it all began.

And that was the last time she nursed. I've given her the opportunity to nurse the last two mornings, but she's started to suckle then burst into tears, and I've had to make her a bottle. So I have a bottle ready for tomorrow morning.

I really thought that "the last time she nursed" would be a big, emotional to-do, that I would really put my heart into it because I knew it would be the end of perhaps the most important and intimate time we'll ever share. I thought I'd concentrate hard on it, trying to soak it all in. I thought I would cry. I'm so grateful that I didn't have to force all of that, that it came so naturally, that I unwittingly paused to savor what had become so routine one last time. I think nursing may be the most important gift I ever give my daughter. And I think giving me that one last sweet, relaxing moment early Sunday morning was a gift from her.