The little man turned 9 months last week. I’m not sure why, but this felt like such a big milestone to me. I think it’s something to do with him being out as long (well almost, if he had of arrived on time) as he was inside cooking.
Over the last month or so he’s really lost interest in milk and basically dropped all of his day time breast feeds. Night time of course was a different matter. I was down to one bf every 24 hours after we got home from holiday and we made the decision that it was the right time for all of us to stop. I’d told myself that the last night feed before he turned 9 months would be the last to make me stick to it. I gave him an extra long cuddle before I put him back down into his cot and silly as it seems had a bit of a cry about it. He’s growing up so fast.
It’s been a roller coaster of a journey. I can just about laugh at those crazy first few (well 6) months now. I’m still not sure how I managed to keep going with it. A friend recently asked me if I would do it again? I didn’t hesitate to say 100% yes. It’s not been easy, especially as he refused the bottle so it meant for the first 6 months feeding was entirely my responsibility. But, as tough as it has been, on the whole, I’ve loved it and I’ll miss it.
So now we’re in a brave new world. One where Mr B can help with the feeding overnight (to be fair he always got up with me when I was bf, although as I keep saying to him it’s not quite the same!) and one where I can have a little bit of freedom (what’s that?!) to go out without having to stress about getting back for a feed. I’m pretty sure my friends will be glad to not have to see my boobs any more and be able to have a conversation with me without a little person hanging off them.
I’m still waiting for my milk to fully dry up, but thankfully it seems to have been pretty easy to stop. My friends are really enjoying the pictures I’m sending them of me with cabbage leaves stuffed down my bra. That really made for a romantic Saturday night in last week. “Seriously, what’s that smell?” Mr B asked, “It’s me darling, you’re going to have to just deal with it”. But they seem to be helping. Stopping has made me a tad emotional, something to do with the change in hormones I guess and it’s made me reflect on a few things as well as wonder where the hell all that time has gone. I swear some days I can’t even remember what happened in the first 4 months of his life. It’ll be two years this weekend since we had our first miscarriage, sitting in A&E that day I never imagined we’d be where we are today. I’m very thankful for what we’ve got, even if he is a little monster at night and hasn’t wanted me to leave his side for the last 9 months. I can’t imagine life without him and I wouldn’t change a thing, well if I’m honest a little more sleep perhaps…. but he’s worth every bag under my eye and stretch mark on my boobs.