That's how long I wanted to breastfeed.
At the minimum, and only because they're twins and I accepted that twins are more difficult, I planned on nursing until the boys were one.
And now. Suddenly.
I think I'm done.
It breaks my heart a little. I've come to really love breastfeeding the boys one on one, and being close to them. Holding them. Feeling them. Nourishing, loving, and bonding with them.
And then, one fine day (Fridayish) Micah decided that he hated to nurse and that if I tried to give him the boob instead of a bottle he would scream and scream and scream.
And little tears squeezed out of his eyes and ran down his face. And his cheeks turned reddish-purple. And his breath got ragged and short.
And he kept on screaming while I squirted him in the face with milk because my body was so eager to feed him.
This has happened every single time I've tried to nurse him since then, except very early in the morning (6am or so) when he will happily latch on and nurse for about three minutes before the screaming begins.
And then one fine day (Sunday, I believe) Grey decided that if Micah didn't have to nurse anymore, then neither did he.
He doesn't scream like Micah does, but he clamps his little mouth shut and turns his face away from me and refuses to eat until I bring him a nice, fat bottle.
So. Now they eat from bottles, I guess.
And since there was no gradual decrease in nursing, my breasts are like giant, sore cannon balls. Or overfull water balloons.
Or um... rock-hard, extremely-painful, highly milk-filled breasts.
And they hurt so bad that I cry when I pump and I can't sleep on my side and I got up at 5am (sans babies) to sit in bed with ice packs on my chest.
And when I hold my babies (which is very painful) they squirm around and are uncomfortable and I find myself saying things like "Boobs, you make a better rock than a pillow," which is kind of nonsensical but true.
And I feel weird.
Mostly that's it. I feel strange about not breastfeeding, more than I feel sad or relieved.
It just seems wrong. Out of place. I should be breastfeeding, right? What the heck are these ugly, stretch-marked, sore, explosive things for if I'm not even breastfeeding my children?
Yesterday a friend said "I nursed my baby until she was a year and a half and still felt guilty quitting."
So how do I get over the guilt, the disappointment, and the strangeness of not nursing?
It just came upon me so suddenly, I didn't have time to prepare to stop.
And my body didn't prepare for this either, so if you have any tips for decreasing one's milk supply I'd greatly appreciate it.
I breastfed successfully and almost even exclusively until the boys were 6 months old.
Which, since I have twins, is like a year's worth of breastfeeding.