For some reason, I have neglected to write about the end of our breastfeeding experience.
Right before Miles turned one, we went down to 2 nursing sessions a day (he began drinking whole milk then) because I could tell that my supply had taken a major hit due to the pregnancy (we were about 9 weeks in then). Already having dealt with supply issues, I just wasn't willing to do much to keep the juices flowing, so to speak.
After a few weeks, we were down to only 1 nursing, in the mornings. Miles was sleeping in his crib all night by this time, and I truly think giving up those nighttime feedings really had an impact on his ability to put himself to sleep.
One day, I realized that I couldn't remember with certainty when we had last nursed.
I think I'm glad that our breastfeeding era ended. It wasn't emotional, not sad or melancholy. Upon my discovery, it just...wasn't anything.
As I reflect on our just over 13 months of breastfeeding, I am grateful that we were able to continue as long as we did. Even with a scary diagnosis of Failure To Thrive, a hospital stay, numerous weight checks, and untold stress, I was able to nourish my perfect little boy and nurture a bond that will far outlast any milk supply.
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