I worried that Lexi would be the kind of baby who walked into toddlerhood refusing to give up the boob. I mean, she really really really wanted to nurse at night before bed. I caved and let her and figured we'd end this ride when she was ready.
Apparently she was ready about a week ago. I sat down with her before bed and BAM she bit me. I did what I've done before, popped her off and told her "no!" I could tell by her body language that she wasn't interested in nursing that night, so I just snuggled her for a bit before putting her down for bed.
We danced that same dance again the next night, and the night after that, and once more the night after that. I finally got the sense to stop the nonsense. So now it's over. Just like that. And even though it's what I wanted - I mean my goal was to make it to a year, and I did - *I* still wasn't fully mentally and emotionally ready for the end. I'm still reluctant for my "baby" to grow up. She's an independent soul and is so headstrong (gee, I wonder where she gets that from?) and does what she wants to do when she wants to do it.
My nursing days with little Alexia Lee are over and it's bittersweet. I know in the weeks to come I'll be happy to have my body back and will love the freedom that comes with weaning, but right now I'm just a little sad.
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