Okay, so it's official.
The first time didn't take. Partly because Mommie wasn't quite ready. Partly because Baby wasn't quite ready either. The Sick came to our house, and it became a convenient excuse to nurse again for a few days.
So I had one early morning nursing, me and her in a blanket early in the morning in the rocking chair, when I could memorize the moment, and the way she was looking at me, that I could remember and consider as "one of" our last times nursing.
Then the next two mornings, laying in bed nursing her at 5 am wishing she would just go back to freaking sleep already, I realized that it really was time. I didn't feel like she was getting much milk, and I was experiencing some discomfort. So a Tuesday morning over three weeks ago was our official last nursing.
She has only asked twice since then, once was just a couple of days ago, when she was running a fever and really didn't feel well. I said that we could cuddle, but that she was a big girl and that we didn't nurse anymore. So she said "juice?". And we snuggled in the rocking chair with a cup of apple juice.
I leaked like crazy for several days. First from the b00bs, then from the eyes (crying, not milk!) But overall I think we're both pretty well adjusted.
And with the extra days tacked on, I officially made it to 18 months.
(Breastfeeding Badges from Gynosaur.com)
Now, I can take sinus medicine when my head hurts, drink more than 2 drinks without worrying that she'll wake up in the middle of the night, and I finally don't have to remember to take those damn DHA capsules.
Still, it's really rather bittersweet.