Over the weekend I’ve had to face that Eve’s last breastfeed passed unnoticed and unremarkable and her interest in my breasts is now purely for comfort and entertainment.*
To soften the blow I snuck in a disgusting cheeseburger but it just left me feeling a little empty and with a lot of heartburn, I don’t think I’ll be rushing back in to eating dairy products, tempting as it is to go get a sundae.
At fourteen months old I know we’ve had a reasonable run, my second child self weaned at the same age. But still I’m saddened, I was prepared and fought for extended breastfeeding this time around. My supply needed lots of help having had a breast reduction between children and I worked at it with diet and sheer bloody minded perseverance. We kept it going despite having to completely overhaul my diet due to Eve’s allergies because I firmly believe where possible breast is best. But now after over a week of no feeds and no interest here we are at the bitter end.
I’m bitter because Eve still wants the bottle, bitter because of the sharp drop off in feeding caused by immunisation and a little bitter that I didn’t realise we were done until it was too late, no last photo to mark the occasion.
All the same what a lovely experience to have shared, what a thing to behold my body first making a child and then sustaining that beautiful little life. Fourteen beautiful months of boosting her immunity and helping her to grow into the little bundle of energy she is. I am so grateful that we were lucky enough to feed at all even if my goals could not be met.
So while there is no record of the last here is the first feed, my tiny one at the breast so soon after emerging into this world.
I’ll do my best to remember that the end sad for me as it is means that there was a beginning and a middle, which I was so fortunate to have.
*She really likes to blow raspberries on them for some reason, or just cling to them when she asleep.