Peanut is 22 months old. He is running not toddling. He talks in multiple word sentences. He is playing ball, cars and racing with his brother. He is more boy than baby.
And I’m still nursing.
I am not judging those who nurse longer. I’ve met quite a few who have nursed until 2 or 3. I’ve even met a woman who was nursing her toddler along with her new baby. More power to those mamas!
For the record, I also don’t judge those who don’t or can’t nurse. We each have to make a choice that works best for us. Just take good care of your baby and I don’t have a problem with you.
Anyway…this is the longest I have nursed a baby. Little Man and Cricket were in daycare and they got bottles during the day while I worked. Bottles full of breast milk which I dutifully pumped until they turned 1 year at which point I wanted to toss my pump out of a window. After that, they got whole milk in their bottles and slowly stopped nursing in the morning/night. Until one day they just went to sleep.
This guy, my Peanut, just doesn’t seem to want to let go of the boob. I think it is because he really hasn’t had a bottle. When he was 4 months and I thought I was headed back to work; I was fully stocked with breast milk in my freezer. Then life happened and I left my job. So we gave up the bottle and I packed up the evil pump.
Almost two years later and Peanut and I are still at the nursing thing. I feel like I am closet nurser. I am not ashamed or anything. Mostly, I feel this way because no one really knows that I still nurse. I nurse in the morning, before or after a nap or two and at night. So it is pretty private.
I’m sure the whole thing is just for comfort. I’m just not sure who is more comforted — Peanut or me.
For now, I am just enjoying the last few quiet moments with Peanut.