weaning

Cole had weaned himself and nursed for the last time the day after Thanksgiving. I didn't write about it sooner because it happened so gradually and without any fuss that I wasn't even convinced that it was over for a while.

When Cole was about 10 1/2 or 11 months old he decided on two nursing sessions a day. Both were short, one was when he woke up in the morning, and the other before he went to bed. Then at 11 1/2 months we began giving him whole milk in his sippy cup, but he refused to drink it. In fact he found it so vile, that he would refuse his cup altogether after a taste of milk. He had never had formula, so I decided not to offer it to him and instead go straight to the milk, but Cole had other plans. After much trial and error, he has accepted "milk smoothie"--a blend of Gerber yogurt drink, whole milk, and water. I've been slowly decreasing the water, and eventually I hope to phase out the yogurt drink, but at least we found the magic formula! The pediatrician told me not to worry about it too much because he gets plenty of calcium from the yogurt and cheese that he devours every day.

As for the weaning, I was prepared that it might be emotional for me, but it really wasn't. (Dooce's post on the topic had me in tears, but she had complicating circumstances.) I was ready to stop too, and I remember thinking that Friday morning that this might be the last time, and I felt more relief than sadness. Breastfeeding was a great experience for me and Cole. I never had mastitis, and when he weaned, I didn't have any trouble with engorgement. Sure the first few weeks after Cole was born were exhausting and uncomfortable, and the bras and nursing pads were demeaning and just plain ugly, but we made a good team, and I'm glad that I did it.