We decided to take the plunge. Tycho had been down to nursing once a day in the mornings for a few weeks, sometimes skipping a day entirely because I left for work before he woke up. And that last nursing session was becoming less and less fun for me. I couldn't get him to focus anymore. He'd suck for a minute and then get distracted, but don't you dare put that boob away, mama. Or he would stay latched while doing what I can only describe as baby yoga in my lap. I just felt so. Very. Done.
So we did it. I had to work overnight all week long this week, so it seemed to me like the perfect opportunity. On Sunday morning, while we nursed for the last time (very pleasantly, actually, I might add), I explained that he was a big boy now and after this he wasn't going to nurse anymore and he could have milk in a cup or water or a snack instead. No idea how much actually sunk in, but I feel better doing it. and I'm glad it was a planned thing so I could savor those last moments of our nursing relationship. And then, because I was out so late with work Kyle got up with the baby and let me sleep in. We've let him watch a movie every morning, because that keeps him distracted for a little while, and then once he's been up for a few hours he's fine.
It's been four days. It's been... really easy. Too easy? He has barely even asked and not protested at all when I've said no and my feelings are a little hurt even though this is what I wanted. I've been in a horrible funk and feeling anxious and depressed about nothing, and I'm taking it very personally, and it dawned on my when I was driving home from work this morning at 3 am that I am going through oxytocin withdrawal and OF COURSE I feel like ass. At least I know now that hopefully this dark cloud will pass and I'm not in need of antidepressants again or something. I hope.
Anyway. Weaned. Tycho is weaned. Probably. Weird.