One of THOSE Moms

Renoir maternite

Renoir maternite (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Miss P’s first birthday is rapidly approaching.  In some ways this is strange because hasn’t she been around forever?  In other ways I cannot believe how fast the last 11.5 months have gone by.

On the subject of breastfeeding I always said I wanted to breastfeed for a year.  My husband interjected (while I was pregnant) that he felt that 6 months of nursing was adequate, but he wisely left it up to me.

As you know Miss P and I struggled with nursing, then we got the hang of it, and then it became second nature.  She still nurses at least 4 times per day: first thing in the morning, before each of her two naps and right before bed at night.  Sometimes she sneaks in a couple of nursing sessions in between.

As time ticks towards 12 months of age I started doing some research on how to wean her.  The more research I did, the more moms I polled, the more advice I got, well, the more stressed I started getting.  Miss P has also started demanding to be nursed in a cute little way: we might be playing on the floor or she might pull up on my lap while I’m watching TV and she will grab the edge of my shirt and pull it up or grab the neckline and pull down.

I don’t say no to her when she wants to nurse, not ever.  I enjoy it and I know she’s getting comfort and nourishment.  No reason to say no to that!

Would I like to drink alcohol again?  Yes.  Would I like to be able to go to an exercise class without pumping first?  Sure I would.

Do I want to see the day when I nurse her to sleep and know that it’s the last time she’ll ever be at my breast?  Nope.  Not yet, anyway.

So weaning is off the table for now.  Maybe in 6 months.  Maybe in a year.  I never thought I would be one of those moms who nursed past a year, but I apparently am.  I don’t see myself nursing past age 2 at all.  I’m hoping she and I will both be ready to stop by then.  I certainly have no plans to be on the cover of Time or Newsweek in a few years.

For now, we keep going.  She’s happy, I’m happy, and that’s all that matters.  Margaritas will still be around in a year, right?

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