weaned

Yet again, I stand on the weaned side of another breastfeeding adventure. Anna was the first to know I was pregnant when she was just under six-months-old back in October when she went from happily filling her belly at my breast to screaming in frustration at the pitiful supply presenting itself to her. We powered through the resurgence of every two hour feeds to compensate for the supply shortage. Then came Anna feeling kicks from Baby Baby during her pre-sleep nursing and snuggling routines. I had no interest in tandem nursing (nursing two babies at once). So I knew Anna's nursing days would end shortly after her first birthday (assuming she wouldn't quit before then like Heidi did). So Anna turned one on Easter Sunday, got the dreadful puking bug the following Saturday, and nursed for the last time the next Sunday morning. So we are done. Bittersweet and beautiful.

I am again thankful and grateful to my awesome husband for supporting these adventures, including having to leave both a wedding and a fundraiser early and suddenly to cure an angry baby. (To be fair to Anna, this happened during that time Anna knew I was pregnant before I did.)


Why do my babies keep growing up so quickly?

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