If you’ve been reading this blog for awhile you probably know how much of a challenge breastfeeding turned out to be for me. If it wasn’t multiple bouts of mastitis within the first two months, the severe allergic reaction I had to the meds prescribed for the mastitis, the near-impossible levels of distractible baby syndrome (yes, I coined that myself) which made it extremely difficult to nurse even in a dark, familiar room, or the frustrating experience of not being able to pump and store milk, I had my share of complications. From about 4 months onward, I continually set goals just ahead of myself, “If I can just make it to 6 months breastfeeding her, I’ll feel good about what I’ve been able to accomplish.” And then, when 6 months would pass, I would aim for 9 and when 9 months came and went I would say 10, 11, a year. But I never really believed the two of us would still be breastfeeding at the one year mark. That was the stuff of legends.

So, here we are today, past the one year mark albeit by only a week or so. Gianna caught a superbug and it made it impossible for her to breathe through her nose for a solid two weeks. Somewhere after the third day of struggling to breastfeed and breathe at the same time, she gave up. She struggled from that day on to come to grips with the fact that she wanted to nurse–and would cling to my shirts, leaning in, mouth wide and hungry–but she knew she physically couldn’t make it work. It took 2 days of this frustration before she willingly started drinking from her sippy cup. And it took a week more still before she started drinking more than 10 ounces a day of anything. But now, three weeks later and fully recovered from her cold, she doesn’t seem to have any recollection or desire to revisit our nursing relationship.

I pumped until she was well and I do believe the familiarity of my milk made the transition–if you could call it that when it happened so abruptly–to a sippy cup much smoother than it would have been otherwise, gradually replacing my milk with cow’s milk.

Now that I have a moment to think about it, Gianna never was the typical, milk-drunk baby. Since about 4 months of age, when she began to notice her environment and nursing became a struggle against attention spans, I knew weaning would not be as difficult for her as it can be for others. It just came as such a shock that she could do it so quickly. I’m sure other babies would not have endured a hunger strike out of stubbornness. In fact, I know of a few who will turn blue in the face from trying to nurse with a stuffy nose and none of them have let it stop them. Gianna is nothing if not headstrong after deciding she wants it a particular way.

So, I say a fond farewell to our nursing days. I’m certainly thankful in the end it wasn’t my decision to make, but hers alone and it’s liberating to not have to find dark corners and inconspicuous angles to feed her anymore.

We finally took a week-long vacation–our first in almost two years–and Benoit’s parents and little brother rented a cabin in Lake Tahoe with us. It’s been great to see Gianna trying to play in the snow and walk along the lake shore even if it’s been so astoundingly cold and windy that she has refused to be put down a few times outside. She loves spending so much time with Bon Papa and Mamilou and she seems to be picking up more words from them in French everyday. And Benoit and I love having them here with us so we can escape once in awhile for an adults-only good time. I’m sure going to miss that when they leave!

Here are a few photos of our trip. We’re on our way home tomorrow and expecting a huge storm to boot. Keeping our fingers and toes crossed we won’t have any problems over the summit with the one car that doesn’t have 4WD.

Today is Gianna’s first birthday and I’m in total shock at how fast this year has gone by. It’s also a little surreal that I finally have a memory to go with someone’s birthday. I mean, I actually know what happened to put this little life in motion. And that may seem really mundane to you but it came as a total surprise to me. I tend to think of birthdays as just another day of the year, albeit one I mark with candles and wishes. There are no thoughts of what it was like for me being born mostly because I have no recollection of that day, which I understand is pretty normal. So, of course I was surprised to find myself able to picture and relive Gianna’s birth on her birthday, shocked that all mothers probably do this each time their child passes another yearly milestone. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so blindsided by this simple truth if my own mother had been around to embarrass me with my own birth story and complaints of the labor pains I caused. In any case, I find myself oddly entrenched in today’s remembrances, connected in an unbreakable and timeless way to all Gianna’s future birthdays and I think that it’s super cool.

We had her birthday party last weekend and about 30 of our closest family and friends showed up to help us celebrate. I baked her cake and with MUCH angelic intercession from my aunt Lynn, the vanilla cake and mango-raspberry whipped cream filling, buttercream frosting and neon decorations came out like only a professional bakery could have created. It was awesome! Benoit is quite handy with a pastry bag as he did the majority of the icing.

Here is video from the big day!

Finally eating her cake!