The doctor said we have to wean Bama before we can do a transfer. Two weeks ago, I was ready to wean. I thought it would be great to have my breasts back, just for me, for a while. Not huge and pre-pregnant sore, not huge and ready-to-nurse, not nursers, just breasts.
As with anything I have to give up, now that I have to stop nursing Bama, I love it. She snuggles with me in the morning, cuddling under the flannel sheets. She curls up with me in the big chair before baths in the evening. I get to stroke her hair, talk about the day, listen to her, touch her feet.
If I were younger, we'd feel less pressure to get back on the baby train. But I'm 40. And a half. And at 41, chances of a successful pregnancy (via IVF) drops 50 percent. So, weaning it is. I already miss it.