Breaking Up with Breastfeeding

I always thought I would breastfeed until Luna was 18 months. At least. Maybe two years.

Her pediatrician recommended at least 18 months because of her health stuff.

I was ALL IN. Whatever I can do, sign me up 100 times. I’ll eat the lactation cookies, spike my oatmeal with so much flax seed it is hard to swallow, pump on top of breastfeeding (shoot me in the face NOW), whatever it takes was my motto.

 

I knew for sure I would get her to 18 months. I believed it with all of my being. I was so committed.

Then Luna’s health stuff was CURED.

It dawned on me that this old intention needing some updating.

So I decided to just go with the breastfeeding flow for a while. I weaned her from a few of the feedings because she was eating string cheese and broccolini and salmon like a champ.

And then this past week my body literally told me, “We are done.”

Just like that. Just like a straightforward, no debate necessary, fact.

We are done. It is time.

I said to my body what about the 18 months and what about the immunities and what about. And my body was just like, it is time. And then I was like, okay, body, I hear you.

It is kind of weird, I don’t feel sad. And on the flip side I don’t feel overly happy or like I need to throw myself a party.

It just feels like a fact.

So the main real feeling is groundedness and trust in my body's innate intelligence.

And so that is the celebration really.

What I want to celebrate is that intelligence AND my ability (huge shout out to my teacher in all things body intelligence, Kia Miller!!!! WHAT WHAT!!!)  to have been able to hear it and follow through on it.


May we all celebrate each other in the way we nourish our babies and ourselves over a bunch of lactation cookies, because , eff those are actually soooo good.

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