Will is eight months old. And I think he is losing interest in breastfeeding.
I have such mixed emotions about this. Part of me is kind of ready to get on with the show. After all of the infertility crap, then pregnancy, and now nursing, I am ready to have my body back.
I also know with the greatest certainty that I will miss our tender moments together. Some of the sweetest times of my motherhood journey so far have been when Will has been at my breast. When he was sick these past few weeks, it was so nice to just go to bed with him and let him nurse. It gave me the much needed time to rest and him the opportunity to get exactly what he needed/wanted to feel better. I am not sure what we will do without that particular weapon in our arsenal.
However, I have noticed that a lot of the times now, he will nurse for just a few minutes on each side and then he is done. I know they get efficient at getting the milk out, but he doesn't seem to be stopping because he is full, but rather because the dog barks or his Daddy comes into the room. Sometimes, when I lay him down on my lap, he starts to laugh, as if he is excited for his meal, but then I put the breast in his mouth and he just keeps laughing. He will not latch or feed. This doesn't happen every time, but between this and the short feeds, I just feel as if weaning is definitely in progress. I am not going to say we are "done" breastfeeding, but the doesn't seem far away.
It's funny, because at first, when I thought about weaning him, it seemed so very far away. I thought about how much he loved The Boob and didn't think he would ever get to the point where he decided he was done. I figured it would be me that ended this phase of our life. Now, it looks as if I am the one who will be left behind. Just the beginning, I suppose. This is just one of the first of many, many steps toward independence. . . for him and for me.