Spencer is done nursing, and it truly is bittersweet. It's been a long, hard road. We managed to hit the first six and half months exclusive, before starting a gradual transition to formula. I had heard horror stories about pain associated with weaning, but tapering down over the past few months helped to avoid that. And now we're done. And it feels weird. And sad. And part of me is definitely happy - I look forward to the hormone levels in my body evening out, and to really focusing on getting my body back in shape, and having a drink would be nice too. There was a great opportunity to celebrate my first drink in a loooong time at Mommy's Night last week, but it had only been a couple of days since we stopped and I still hadn't fully admitted to myself that it was really over. The other week at Carol's we discussed with friends that being a nursing mom really enters you into a 'club' - that there are things that just can not be understood by someone who has not walked in these shoes. The struggle during the first several weeks to hit a groove together with your baby, the frustration of not knowing how much milk your baby is getting, the excruciating pain of needing to nurse, and the woeful feeling that you only exist to feed your baby. I surely don't miss those emotions, but I did find it tremendously rewarding to see Spencer gain weight and thrive on what I was able to provide for him.