The happy weaner
High and dry after surgery, Carrie counts the positives of stopping breastfeeding.
When Joseph was born, I decided I was going to breastfeed for 6 months. As soon as he reached 6 months, I decided that he (read: I) wasn’t ready for weaning, so I delayed it, indefinitely.

So happy with my decision was I that I crowed away to all the mums in mum’s group about how I was going to feed him until at least the end of the year. I shouldn’t have opened my big trap. Murphy was listening.

Enter appendicitis. Exit my appendix. Three days in hospital, loads of pain and stitches later, breastfeeding just wasn’t even physically possible. So, compulsory weaning took place.

I was surprisingly fine about it/high on morphine for the first few days, but then last night I looked at my small (miniscule, tiny, incy-wincy) boobs in the mirror and felt a bit sad.

The pros of weaning

But not one to dwell, I got out a pen and paper and jotted down all the pros of having my boobs back:

  1. I can drink coffee again! Filter coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, frappes, iced coffees, macchiatos, Irish coffees, espressos. ‘Nuff said.
  2. No more feeding bras! Can I get an amen? The most hideous garments known to man. I can only guess that in the day and age when women were burning their bras, the undergarments in question must have resembled feeding bras. The problem was, back then, that there wasn’t a La Senza in sight. Who would want to burn a R500 lace push up?
  3. Bye-bye, leakage! Despite having half a box of breast pads stuffed down each side of my feeding bra, I constantly had to come up with creative ways to hide the two wet patches on my top. Think scarves, think cardigans, think inexplicably clutching my boobs in client meetings.

And Joseph? He hasn’t so much as batted an eyelid! Seriously.While I’ve been mourning breastfeeding/going through morphine withdrawals, Joseph hasn’t seemed to notice that anything is amiss.

Less than a week ago, if he so much as saw my boobs he’d start salivating and making his hungry noises, now he stares at them with a confused look on his face, as if to say, ‘What are those teeny weeny things for?’

How was weaning for you? Comment below or mail us your full story at

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