The end of a(n) (boob) era

I decided to stop breastfeeding the other day…for about a month now Fred’s only been having a bedtime breastfeed and I really treasured the milk cuddles at the end of the day especially as I have to leave him 3 days a week. On those 3 days I only see Fred for about 2 hours and in the mornings I have to rush about getting ready while he follows me about, crying. Then he cries when I leave.

Actually, on Tuesdays when my parents are there cos they stay over Monday nights, he really couldn’t give a shit about me and he follows them around crying instead.
But the point is, on those days I don’t get much quality time with him so I thought I’d carry on that bed time feed FOREVER.

However, the last week or so Fred’s been spending the whole feed sticking his fingers up my nose and yanking…or pushing my face side to side in a sort of elaborate comedy slapstick move..then laughing. He’s barely been doing any drinking and I thought..ok..this is it. Time to stop.

Now I give him a bottle of cow milk before bath time and it’s only been 3 days but he’s gong to sleep absolutely fine without me.

This is a bit of a difficult time for me…3 days a week I’m learning about my new role, trying to establish myself as a professional and also stay on top of meal plans and laundry and baby groups.

So far I reckon I’m not doing so great…meal planning and shopping has gone out the window..we’ve been just picking stuff up every day and getting by like that..Fred’s eating a lot of pasta with ricotta mixed in. I’m eating a lot of pret instead of carefully prepared quinoa bowls or the healthy leftovers I’d imagined.

And now I don’t have my milk cuddles.
I’m writing this post from a bit of a teary, emotional place.

I know from experience that giving up a feed throws me into emotional turmoil as my hormones cope with the change in my body..But it’s more than that. I’ve spent over a year nourishing my baby with my body..It’s what my boobs are for! Now they’re just boobs again.

Boring boobs.

And Fred doesn’t need me. That’s irrational..I know he still needs me and loves me..But as I deal with this shift where I’m not his main care giver anymore..and I don’t have all his meals taken care of and the fridge is bare…I also have this. And I’m taking a moment.

Ok…breath.

Here are some pics of my independent dude.