Weaning
Yes, I know—I still need to post about Austen's birthday. Unfortunately, the photos that go with that post are on the Mac, and I'm here in the dining room writing Christmas cards next to the PC laptop, so updates are of the Random Thoughts variety until all the cards are finished.
I wanted to mention, for my own historical record more than anything, that weaning is going well. We had been down to one nursing session per day since Austen and I returned from Maine (this coincides with when he started walking for real, though I'm not sure whether the two events are related), but this weekend he went an entire day without nursing at all.
The feeding we'd kept was the morning one, since Austen would wake up at 5:30 or 6 a little out of sorts and seemed to benefit from the snuggle-nursing. Books I've looked at since recommend keeping the bedtime feeding and then gradually reducing the duration of that feeding until it can be skipped entirely, but Austen didn't seem to need the nighttime feeding to go to sleep, so it went even before the naptime sessions did. We figure we missed a couple opportunities to wean him last week, when he slept until 7:45am; we realized afterwards that Al should have just brought him downstairs to play or have breakfast instead of putting him in bed with me, since he woke up cheerful both times and didn't really *need* to nurse.
Austen seemed to decide for himself on Sunday that he'd rather just snuggle than nurse, however, and I haven't nursed him since. We happened to be in a hotel room that morning when he woke up at 6:30, so the strange environment might have been a contributing factor; on Monday morning, when he got up at the same time, he cried when Al bypassed our bedroom and took him straight downstairs to play. He got over his dismay in a few minutes, however. This morning he woke up all cranky at 4am, so we dosed him with Tylenol, I snuggled him until he fell back to sleep, and then Al took him downstairs at 6:30 as usual.
I was thinking that the boobs were probably about done anyway, and that if Austen really wanted to nurse again this morning there wouldn't be anything left, but judging from how tender they are at the moment, I'd say they're a little puzzled that they haven't been called up for duty in over 72 hours. I'm sure that'll pass, though, along with the slight nostalgia for the bond Austen and I have shared these past twelve and a half months. I think both of us were 90% ready to move on, 10% clinging to the past, and it was time.
I wonder if I'll ever get used to sleeping without a bra on again.