The weaning sadness and over-emotionalness has abated a little bit, but I find myself wanting to hold and squeeze my baby more often than she would like. She's annoyed by all the kisses on her little face and neck. She's such a big girl, and weaning is a step in her growing up that I wasn't prepared for. Completely ready for? Yes! Prepared for? Not so much.
After four days of weaning two (three?) feedings, I definitely feel more of a sense of freedom. FREEDOM! We went to friends' house for a cookout last night and I didn't have to lift up my shirt ONCE. And also? It felt good to be able to wear a shirt that I didn't have to worry about stretching out. On the other hand, Daddy was in charge of the bottle and since we're used to just packing a back-up-just-in-case bottle, there wasn't quite enough for my hungry hippo. So she ate some avocado off Mama's burger and had more bottle when we got home. I have to get in the routine of carrying more water/formula than I actually need for the back-up-to-the-back-up-bottle.
Part of the weaning story that isn't so fun? The engorgement. This morning I woke up and it was like when Lucy was newborn and my milk wasn't regulated yet. At first I thought maybe I cut out too much all at once with all the afternoon feedings, but decided even the engorgement is worth it. Maybe not so worth it: the other stuff that gets back to regular cycling after weaning. I've gone 19 months without one of those regular cycles, and let me tell you, I didn't miss it! Add those emotions into the mix, and you've got one crazy-ass Mama who swings between kissing the baby to death and getting really mad that the baby kicks the box of wipes off the changing table EVERY TIME SHE'S UP THERE.
So I've got that going for me.