Milk for my baby

The day before yesterday was the 13th of November, 2007 and my firstborn turned 4 3/4, which means I have been pregnant or breastfeeding (or, for much of the time, both) for the last 5 1/2 years. That is a long time, around three quarters of my entire married life, actually. When Samuel turns one on Saturday, I want to wean him from my milk. I think I do, anyway.

Jeff said "Just do it." Part of me agrees with him.

Joshua was one when I weaned him. Until his birthday, I was still feeding him four feeds each day. The day after he turned one, I dropped a feed, and then dropped another each week (the last I kept for another fortnight). I gave birth to Anna 6 weeks later, so I'm not even sure that my milk dried up. Then with Anna, my milk didn't last, and I was forced to supplement her diet with formula from when she was only six months, and she didn't get any milk from me after she was about 9 months old, at which time I was already 6mo pregnant with Abigail. With Abi I was much more careful. I didn't even give her any solids until she was 8mo, and I managed to finish weaning her on her first birthday, when I was only 3mo pregnant with Samuel. Now I am not pregnant, so my milk supply is almost as good as it was with Joshua. So there is no pressing biological need to stop breastfeeding Samuel.

But after 5 1/2 years, I am just sick and tired of the physical demands of pregnancy and breastfeeding. I want to be able to take medicine when I get a cold instead of being told my the pharmacist that nothing is suitable. I want to be able to plan a day out without respect to feeding times. I want to buy some nice clothes that aren't chosen for their accessability!

Samuel is almost walking, which means he is becoming a toddler, not a baby. When he's finished a feed, he sits up and tries to crawl off my lap, rather than snuggling in to me as he would as a baby. So it is not as if he appreciates the cuddles as much as I do.

When I was sick a while back with the flu, around the time we started him on solid food, we bought one can of baby formula. We used it when I was sick and then a few times when we went out on date nights and left the kids with a babysitter. Once we had the formula, if he woke in the night, he got a bottle because it was less physically tiring for me to feed him that way. A fortnight ago the baby formula ran out and we have switched him to full fat cows milk, and he has one or two bottle feeds a week. So he will happily take milk from a bottle, and yesterday I started showing him how to drink water from a cup.

Yes, he's big enough, old enough, capable enough. Yet I am still prevaricating.

Samuel will be my last baby. When I give him his last feed, that will be it. A connection will be broken. I won't be nourishing him - or any other babies - from my own body any longer, and I will miss that intimate connection to his wellbeing.

Weaning is one of the saddest times that I can remember from being a mother to four young children. Each of my weaning experiences have been emotional, even though I have been much more "successful" at feeding than many of my friends. Statistically, I am somewhat of an anomaly to get this far with the whole breastfeeding thing, so I shouldn't complain. But even though sometimes I get frustrated and annoyed, I am going to miss giving Samuel his milk straight from my own body.