Yay us!!

Charlie officially has weaned. Not even a nip in the last week. And shockingly, I'm not sad about it.

When Alpha was born I WAS GOING TO NURSE-THANK YOU VERY MUCH. And then I became his mom and it all went to hell in a hand basket. After his rough birth I had a rougher recovery and by the time we got home, 11 days post partum, and I tried to breast feed, he just wouldn't. We tried. A lot. For 8 weeks. Which I know doesn't sound like a lot. But oh, it is. He would cry when he got hungry, I would lift my shirt, get perfect positioning, hold him to my breast, and listen to him shriek like I was killing him. I tried and tried and tried. Then once he was purple and screaming and so hungry and I was bawling I would put my shirt back and get him the stupid bottle and give it to him, resenting the bottle that soothed him, resenting the crappy nurses I had, resenting my body. Then I would get him settled some where, pump, wash the pump parts, wash bottles, change him, and then he would cry because he was hungry and I would get a 20 minute break before doing it all again. And again. And again. So I gave up on nursing and felt like a total failure and then just cried for 6 months. Super healthy, I know. I wouldn't let anybody else feed him because I and I alone was SUPPOSED to be able to feed him. I let Matthew do it because I couldn't say no to him. And it gave me a bit of a chance to rest my poor brain. As soon as Alpha turned 1 I took the bottles away cold turkey and was so happy to not see them again.

Then Bravo was born. Oh cranky, high maintenance, difficult, sweet little Bravo. Carried in his sling for no less than 13 hours a day. He did eventually nurse but it took 17 weeks for him to figure it out. In the middle of the night he would scream for 2 hours instead of latching. But ooooh- I was determined. And I at last found the help I actually needed. My midwife sent me to the best baby chiropractor ever and to the GOOD lactation consultants in the city (we have some pretty bad ones). And finally he nursed. And I was so happy it was working. He self-weaned at 14 months because I was 11 weeks pregnant. And he was as stressed about weaning as he was about starting nursing. Even though it was his idea. Drove me nuts.

SO when Charlie came out and just latched with no effort and never looked back I was shocked. Floored. Delighted.

Which brings me to the point of this post (do I ever have a point though, really??). We nursed for 12 and a half months. I would happily keep going, but he decided he was done. Which makes me happy. I didn't force weaning, he chose it because he was ready. (And because I have no milk because I'm pregnant. Again.) And in that 12.5 months he had a small handful of bottles, like maybe 4 for a total of 10 ounces, and he had no Formula. Zero. Not even one drop. And I am so proud of us. Proud of myself. Not because formula is evil (although formula spit up in the house would make Bravo really sick) but because we did it.  I nursed with no pain, no formula, no medications, no infections, no problems, until he peacefully decided to stop. And that is an amazing feeling after everything I've gone through trying to simply feed my babies. Hopefully Delta takes after Charlie. Delta, are you listening????

So yay us!!!