.....And I'm a little bit heartbroken. Laurie has had his final breast feed. I always thought I'd be happy to give up. After all it can be a bit of a chore and nursing bras are indescribably disgusting.
But when it came to actually giving him a cup of milk instead of snuggling up for our bedtime feed I needed to cry quite a bit. I didn't then and there of course, but later I did, once he went to sleep, hardly noticing the change and probably very pleased that he could actually hear Daddy reading Winnie the Pooh for a change.
Breastfeeding is this hugely amazing thing that I'm so thankful I was good at and able to do. I'm not evangelical about it, it's not for everyone, but it worked for us. I feel so proud that not only did I build my boys inside me, but I kept on building them - just me (and a lot of Green & Blacks) for six whole months. Even when I started to wean them I knew if they didn't eat as much as they should they'd be ok because I could feed them everything they needed.
Stopping is so bittersweet. I am beyond happy to have my body back after all I feel like I've been pregnant or breast feeding for the last four years. But I will miss looking down at my sweet little baby, stroking his soft hair, feeling his little hand wrap around my finger for an extra bit of comfort, watching him relax, seeing him get fixated on the stitches of my jumper as he feeds, and that beautiful, dozy, milk-drunk state and the big cuddle at the end.
Letting go of that final feed was to give him his first true bit of independence - he doesn't physically need me anymore - and that's just heartbreaking. With Rufus I was more stoical. We were already planning to have another baby so it seemed less of a wrench. This time it's not just breastfeeding I'm saying goodbye to, it's babies. Laurie is my last baby, and while I'm happy with that decision it still makes me sad. I'll never feed another baby. That part of my life is over. I'm saying goodbye to my babies and becoming the mummy to two boys instead.
I know they need me still in so very many ways but that special thing that was just us, that no one else could do is gone and I'm grieving for it more than I thought I would.
I'm trying to hold on to my baby in other ways and cherise every moment. Like when he crawls into my lap and tries to pull himself up face to face. When he's too tired to get there he lies his head in my lap for a rest, and I stroke his hair and scoop him up so he can tweak my nose and pull my hair like he wants to.
Or when he wakes up from a nap and just wants to lie on my chest for a minute and hear my heart beating.
I know this is the first in a very, very long line of letting go's and I don't imagine for one minute it gets easier. I'm just trying to remind myself that wherever they are, whatever they're doing and however old they are they'll actually always be my babies inside and I'll always be their mummy - inside, outside, shouting from the rooftops.