The end of the world as we know it.

Slightly dramatic I suppose, but it is very monumental to me.  Pichu turns 2 on Friday, and there is no breast milk left.  Yep, all dried up.  After over 9 years of being either pregnant and/or breastfeeding I am finally off the hook.   This brings mixed emotions, sadness, joy, pride, and a massive sense of achievement.   

Pichu has been feeding for the longest, he was fortunate to not have to give up the breast milk because of pregnancy like the other boys did.  He also kept having night feeds for the longest.  He screamed for the longest, and now has tantrums for the longest.   It wasn't until he was 19 months old that I had had enough of the night feeds and decided it was time to say no to night feeds and yes to sleep.  This began the battle of wills.  Ultimately I was the winner!

So I am sad that it has come to an end, I am also sad because my bra size has dropped permanently.  It is now very long ago revisited territory that I am in, but it was so long ago it just doesn't feel right.  It will take awhile to get used to not being tied to a baby/toddler by an invisible string.  The beginning of the end was Oshawott having Scarlet Fever and being in Hospital for 5 days.  With me staying in hospital with him it meant that Pichu did not have Mummy at home putting him to bed.  And that meant no bedtime feed for 5 nights, and then again a few days later when Oshawott was back in hospital with Pneumonia, no night feeds for 2 nights.  After we were home it just wasn't the same anymore, we kept on, but it too late to save any supply. 

So that's that.  An end of an era.