... and now a shout out to my breasts

When I was doing this breastfeeding thing the last time, I often commented on it. Feeding Willa, the feelings about her publicly groping me when she was hungry, the weird awe that feeding my baby from my body calls for, pumping... all of this was well documented on the sinki.
This time around, the novelty is kinda gone, and it's just practical and something I do. No lessw of a magical thing, but not new, you know? This time around has been so much more successful.
I am typing this with a pump hooked up to me right now. Yup, lactating right this second. And gracious! I'm producing like a champ. 6 oz from one side - I know! Look for me at the State Fair this summer (if the state budget allows for a fair this year)! I am not only keeping up with Henry's demands, but exceeding them. I've a tidy stash in the freezer.
Willa wanted 8oz a feeding while away for 3 or 4 feedings. Henry is content - and obviously thriving - at 5 oz 2 or 3 times while at school. By 3 months with Willa, we were having to purchase formula to keep up with her.
Today Henry is 5 months old (!) and my breasts have been - until Saturday's leap into cereal - his sole source of nourishment. Happy anniversary, gals! Keep up the good work!

Retirement

I have reentered a time in my life when it might be inappropriate to discuss breasts and nipples - right after this post. On Friday morning, after 2 days of successful sippy cup usage, Willa and I breastfed for the last time. It wasn't necessary for me, I just wanted to be aware that it was the last time while we were doing it. There were no tears, or any real emotion. Like every other time in the past several months, she did a break dancing routine while connected to me. I watched her charmed and waited for a pang of sadness or something, but nope. So... she's 16 months old today. And weaned. I think I'll go and buy a new bra or 2 to celebrate the good and dedicated service of "the ladies."

It was a crazy weekend of work picnic, visiting my parents, going to Bill and Jackie's new house (and enjoying their pool - thanks again, guys), an unexpected date at the Royal Oak farmers market followed by lunch, ice cream with my grandparents... It's no wonder we were all worn out and laid low on Sunday.

Stand back, they're loaded.

So, weaning hurts. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, imagine a balloon hooked up to a faucet. The faucet slowly fills up the balloon. Slowly, slowly, slowly... and then the balloon is at capacity and suddenly bursts.
Earlier this week, I woke up with a faint memory of an oddly amusing dream.
In the dream, I walked into a large room that had debris on the tile floor. I was annoyed that no one had swept and I was meeting someone soon. Unable to find a broom or mop, I used my breast as a hose. The end.
I can't imagine where that came from (smirk).
Thanks to AmyinMotown for her thought provoking post that helped me remember my dream. Really folks, if you're interested in breastfeeding or are scared of militant breastfeeders, go take a peek.
The good news for those of you who aren't interested in breastfeeding or hearing about my boobs is that I hope to be done with weaning next week. Ironically it's World Breastfeeding week.

OH! Also, a momma rabbit gave birth on our front lawn this morning. There are at least 2 slimy baby rabbits in the shallow hole she dug. With 2 dogs who roam the lawn, this is going to get tricky.