Now I’m Flatter than a Board

I have been meaning to write this post for two weeks now: Bun Weans Herself.

I have already written about my position on breast-feeding. I’m not a hard-core La Leche lady or anything like that; it just seems the most natural, although not always the easiest, thing to do.

So up until two weeks ago, I was still nursing Bun. She was also getting some formula, and of course, lots of solid food at this point. Like her sister before her, Bun definitely is a terrific eater. I have yet to try something that she absolutely will not eat.

At seven months, she was nursing three times a day: early morning (anywhere between 5 and 7 a.m.), 10-10:30 a.m., and 5 p.m.

Then, about six weeks ago, she started losing interest. She would occasionally sleep through the early morning feed. She almost always still wanted the 10 a.m. nurse-n-nap. And then the 5 p.m. session became hit or miss.

Although Bun didn’t seem to miss anything. She didn’t look for it. She was never one of those pull-on-the shirt type nursers.

Then about three weeks ago, she really lost interest. Instead of nursing, she would smile at my breast, laugh even. She would thoughtfully knead my breast, even giving it an occasionaly pinch. After playing a bit, sometimes she would still take a few sips. As a source of entertainment, my breasts seemed to do the trick; as a food source, not so much.

And then Bun started nipping the nipples, and that was the end. She would catch the very tip in between her four teeth, and that actions hurts like a m-f’er.

I know I am very lucky. Monkey was much the same way about weaning. It just wasn’t that big a deal. Real, solid food seems to be much more interesting than what I have on offer (DearDR probably thinks this too…). Unfortunately, because she is only ten months old, I still have to offer her formula, which she seems to like very well.

The other downside to having breast fed? I have a negative bra size now. I am not even close to kidding. Before kids I was barely an A cup. Pregnancy and breast feeding were boons to my husband. And now. Now, my bra laughs when I put it on. “Honey,” it says, “if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have any curves.”

And you know, it’s right.