Done

Fair warning: If you're uncomfortable discussing breastfeeding, don't read on. Lots of other things to surf on the web.

So Zach is now officially weaned. The whole process was painful, and Zach was pretty despondent for a few weeks, but it was time for both of us to move on. I realized that I've spent nearly 4 1/2 out of the last 5 1/2 years nursing, and although it's been the sweetest thing I can imagine, I've done my time.

The last few months have been strange for me because I've been assigned to write about breastfeeding issues at the same time I'm going through them. At times it's been hard to sort the universal issues from the personal ones. For instance, last month I was asked to write about the "breastfeeding backlash" - which, in a nutshell, is a backlash against the holier-than-thou breast-is-best preach-ifying that goes on among moms. But, as I told my editor, I really struggled with it, because I don't want to speak for anyone else about what is right for them, but for me it really was the very best thing.

With Luke, the first week was probably one of the most difficult of my life, and the first three months were unbelievably grueling. But we were lucky enough to have good resources and encouragement to keep us going. Once we eased into a routine, it got kind of nice, and once we got past the first year it was too sweet and comforting to stop.

If I hadn't had such a good experience with Luke, I probably wouldn't have tried so hard with Zach. But from the very beginning I was doggedly determined to make it work, even though I knew that when he was born he was heading straight to the NICU and would be bottle-fed. After I came home from the hospital I dragged myself out of bed twice a night to pump and get a good round-the-clock supply going. Once again, I was lucky to have great assistance and encouragement. By the time Zach came home, he decided that he preferred me to a bottle, and he never looked back.

In our neck of the woods, it is definitely de rigueur to nurse for a full year, as the AAP recommends. Quit before the first year without a valid excuse (I'm being sarcastic here, of course), and you might get the old judgmental eye-roll from other moms. But on the flip side, hardly anyone continues nursing beyond a year. I'm one of the very few among people I know in the area who has gone past age two. (Paradoxically, all of my closest friends from college breast-fed their little ones past age two and beyond - whatta bunch of hippies!)

When it was time to wean Luke, I bribed him for the first two days with cake, then with banana bread, and then after a few days it was a non-issue. With Zach, it dragged out a lot longer and he took it much harder. (He was completely unimpressed with the cupcake I offered him.) For the last few weeks he's had an obsession with round comfort objects: Our house is filled with balloons and he's been eating hard-boiled eggs all day long. He's also been wandering the halls in the wee morning hours looking for me. It's only been in the last four days or so that he's kind of eased up and stopped mentioning it. I think he's almost finished with his grieving process, but he still seems to need lots of physical comfort.

Balloons, eggs....Why am I even writing about this at all, you might ask? I think I just want to have this down on record for when I look back on it some day, and to validate how important it was for me and the boys at this very early stage of their lives. There are times (specifically 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, 4 am, and 5 am) when it was a huge pain and I swore I would quit right then. But in the end, the sweetness won out, and I'm glad that is the part that I will remember: snuggling close with a little baby; big eyes looking up at me; my body flooded with feel-good hormones. All in all, I'm glad that we had the time we did together -- and it's hard to imagine a better start for a great relationship.