I’m doing it. I’m really doing it. I am at work today dressed entirely in non-nursing mufti, the pump and all of its accoutrements are at home, and this is in the daycare fridge for, in all likelihood, the last time:
(Genevieve lent her support to the pump-weaning effort by waking up at 3:30, nursing me dry, then doing so again at 7:30. Thanks, kid!)
It is strange that this should feel like such a major change of state, when I’m still breastfeeding Evie and have plenty of milk in the freezer. But it does. It’s liberating in the same way as getting a cast taken off, or perhaps the braces on your teeth. Or maybe selling an old car.
Remember that feeling?
It doesn’t get old.