If you've been following me on this breastfeeding journey, you'd know how I struggled and then got emotional trying to wean and...finally did.








I timed it in a manner that I would drop yet another pump and had my fingers crossed on Auntie Flo not reporting yet but the day I woke up with flaccid boobs I knew the end was near. Fair enough, the supply dipped a ridiculous low and suddenly, I did now know what to do with the additional time.


Previous pump times went as long as an hour and I was down to less than half. The time that I once had and lost and now regained, was a strange possession.








And as if he knew, as we increased his formula feeds he started fussing when breastmilk was fed. Sigh I know baby boy, formula tastes better right?


Slowly but surely, the journey was closing in on me as I watched the last storage of frozen liquid gold disappear. I guess that gave me ample time to be mentally prepared to resume the life I yearned so much to have in the last 15 months.






I said my goodbyes to the flanges and pump 1.5 weeks prior to completely stopping, I was down to hand expressing amounts that I started out with and finally closed this chapter called breastfeeding.


It is strange how reluctant I am, actually. Was it the calories burnt? Or the duty that I placed on myself that I was the food source for my son and then no more?






15 months later and I snapped this picture of posterity's sake. Thank you for the hard work my dear boobs and hello more free time.




P.S. It is just double whammy my supply decided to take a further nosedive days before my targeted end date. So yes, we parted quite un-amicably.


P.P.S. I dumped a total of 2.5 feeds when the fridge also bailed out on me. I was an emo nemo you bet.