All good things come to an end.

Hudson and I have officially ended our nursing relationship as of June 9th. We had a good run filled with lots of cuddling and bonding time. I never anticipated nursing for 4 days shy of 19 months, but I wouldn't change a thing.

Looking back, it's interesting to think of the path I took to nurse. I was formula-fed as were my brothers. I was 15 when my mom had my younger brother, so I was old enough to remember the bottles and the formula. Naturally, I thought I would formula-feed my children too. But, the minute that second line appeared on the pregnancy test, the analyst in me began researching every little thing that I could. Breastfeeding happened to be one of them. Everything I read praised the benefits of breastfeeding: "Breastfed babies have higher IQs...", "Breastfed babies have fewer behavior problems...", "Breastfeeding is cheaper than formula-feeding..." The list went on and on. I was pretty apprehensive about the whole thing since, well, I'm pretty sensitive in that area and wasn't sure I was going to enjoy having a baby latched on. Won't it tickle? Won't it hurt? Can I be sure that I can watch my diet close enough to ensure good milk? My worries are too endless to list. In fact, if you went through my pregnancy with me, I'm sure you've heard about my nightmares related to breastfeeding (including my baby being born with teeth, me trying to nurse a kitten, etc).

Despite my concerns, I knew that I was still going to try to nurse. It felt too selfish of me to not. The only reasons that I could find against breastfeeding were ones that benefited me. "Breastfed babies don't sleep as long at night...", "Formula-feeding allows you to share responsibility with your husband...", "Breastfeeding is demanding on a mother..". As some of you know, I find it a challenge when people question my strength and determination to do something (why else would I have run a marathon or worked towards a PhD?!?). In fact, it has earned me the nickname "Heath" (after my boy Heath Miller). My point is that I accepted the challenges that breastfeeding would present. Why? Because it was best for my son. Little did I know, it was best for me too.

Our nursing relationship had a bit of a rocky start. Hudson was a bit jaudiced in the hospital. He had lost weight, but we were approved to leave 2 days later. As for me, my breasts were sore, tender, and bloody, as if I was marking myself with my first badge of honor as a mother. Our first few days home, I would cringe and my toes would curl in pain as he would latch on. But my son needed me and I was ready to do all I could do provide for him.

After our first pediatrician appointment a few days later, we were referred to a lactation consultant (LC) since Hudson hadn't regained his weight. I was so hopeful and grateful to have some one provide me with answers. I had watched the videos, read the books, and attended the classes...what was I doing wrong? Well, I was being a little too gentle. The LC showed me to really push Hudson's head to the breast. It didn't hurt!! I couldn't believe it. I wish I could say that small piece of advice solved our problems, but sadly I wasn't as good at being aggressive with his head when we got home. But we tried and we practiced and we cried and we consulted others and finally...we conquered. When Hudson was around 5 weeks old, nursing no longer hurt!! An accomplishment at last!

I should mention that without the support of my husband, the girls on the Nest, and the other new moms that I spent time with, I'm not sure I would have stuck this out. A great support network is imperative for any first time nursing mom.

But we weren't in the clear yet. I wasn't really prepared for growth spurts, i.e. periods of time when Hudson wanted to eat continuously. I vividly remember this one night...Hudson was up every 20 minutes or so...I was finally in tears telling Ryan that I don't think I can do it...that maybe it's time to break out the formula they gave us at the hospital. Ryan offered to get it, but before he got out of bed, I said "once we give him formula, there's no going back for me. I'm not sure I can be as dedicated to nursing if I know I have an alternative". Saying those words aloud was all I needed. I dutifully took my maternal butt out of bed and went to my "other bed" (the rocking chair). Ever since that moment, there was no turning back.

Throughout our nursing relationship, I loved that I could put Hudson to sleep anytime I wanted just by nursing him, that I could comfort him and make him stop crying by nursing, that I could share special moments with him each evening by nursing. On the other hand, I was starting to get worn down with being the sole provider of comfort (not that Ryan didn't try), that Hudson needed me to fall asleep, that I had trained Hudson to need to nurse to fall asleep. "It's okay", I would tell myself, "we just need to make it to 12 months".

For some unknown reason I had assumed that Hudson would turn one, fall madly in love with milk, and forget about this nursing gig. I couldn't have been more wrong! While I never actively tried to wean, I took a "don't offer, don't refuse" approach. Well, I didn't need to offer since Hudson made it clear when he wanted to nurse! It didn't help that he never took to milk (I tried cow's milk, goat's milk, soy milk, chocolate milk). So I felt obligated to ensure that he got the nutrients he needed.

At 15 months we decided that him waking up every hour all night wasn't working for us (not sure why it took that long to realize!), and we began to sleep train using the Sleep Lady method (see my sleep posts for references). This was great because it allowed Hudson to go to sleep without the breast. And this, I believe, is where the weaning process started.

We started to get down to 1-2 nursing sessions a day since we were no longer doing the night time one. So we would do morning and 5pm. The 5pm session fell off quickly and we were down to just the morning. Hudson would wake up early, Ryan would bring him into our bed and I would nurse him back to sleep for another hour. It was working until I got pregnant. Between nausea and exhaustion, I just couldn't do it. So I would cuddle him and he would put up a fight for a minute, but then he would find the "security mole" (the little mole I have on my breast that Hudson plays with to fall asleep) and calm down. We started this routine and gradually nursing faded out of our lives.

Last Tuesday, June 9th, is that last time I nursed Hudson. It was 4 days shy of his 19 month birthday. Leading up to that day, I would stare at him each time he nursed, realizing that it could be the last time. Sadly, I don't actually recall the details of our last nursing session, but I'll never forget the warmth of holding my little boy close to me, looking down and seeing his angel face, and wondering how I got so lucky.