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At last, I am free!
On 28th December, Jude turned 18 months old.
He can walk (he can run and climb for that matter), he can (very nearly) talk, AND, he has teeth. LOADS of them! He’s a proper little grown up lad, really.
For the last 6 months, I have still been breastfeeding him, but only once a day before bed. This, it seemed, was completely fine with him; he didn’t ask for it at any other time of day – in fact, he didn’t even ask for it then, I just gave it to him, and he was also perfectly happy to have a bottle if I wasn’t in,
Breastfeeding was always my plan when I had Jude and I was lucky enough to be able to do it for as long as I have wanted to. If not, a little longer! I had initially made the decision to stop at 12 months old, but it just didn’t happen. It’s a weird old thing, breastfeeding. At the beginning of the baby’s life, and throughout pregnancy, you’re encouraged to breastfeed by everyone – “it’s the best thing for
Anyway, about 3 months ago I definitely decided that enough was enough. At this rate he’d be four years old and still having it! (I know it’s right for some, just not for me). Steve also seemed keen to be able to lay some claim to them again too (ifyouknowwhatImean).
Jude had fed
As it happened, I got really emotional about it
Milk from a bottle seems to have the same affect as Red Bull might.
I feel liberated! I feel really proud of myself that I broke the cycle. Because actually, it did feel, at times, like I would never stop. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely
Although we have had a slight issue since we stopped feeding…….
Hand down my top! Every. Single. Cuddle. No attempt to actually feed (thank goodness), but still. And he doesn’t only do it to me – he does it to my mum too! It’s like since he doesn’t get
I’m hoping he’ll grow out of it (he bloody better!), or we’ll have to use bribery or something.
It’s nice to still feel loved though