Can I just say, "I love you man!" This is so wild because I have been on the opposite side - getting all kids of flack for NOT formula feeding my kids. Dana - I'm with you. If you can just roll over and get it done without either of you waking, SCORE! We tried to get our first to sleep in his crib (stupid, stupid, in retrospect) and the upshot was that in order for us to wake and hear him and drag ass out of bed, he had to be practically apoplectic and took forever to settle down to eat, and then to sleep. He would jerk awake, like, you're not leaving again, are you, oh man I know you are, waaaaah! I begged my kids to take a bottle. BEGGED. I had to go to daycare at lunch to nurse my first, and so help me this is true, my daughter has never in her life taken a bottle. Until, of course, she rediscovered them at four and then wanted everything she drank to come in a bottle. I nursed my three children for a combined total of ninety-five months. That's a lot of sitting around, people, trying to do things with one hand. I cannot believe the flack I got for not weaning them sooner, but I thought, if they want it and I don't mind, wtf, people? Are you wearing my breasts? Then put a sock in it. Our pediatrician actually encouraged it, especially for our middle child who was catastrophically ill for the first month of his life with myocarditis. A Coxsackie exposure nearly killed him and destroyed most of his heart muscle, but the rest grew strong enough to compensate. The doctor said, feed that kid as long as you want and give him as many antibodies as you can. Also? Let him keep the binky, because every minute that thing is in his mouth is a minute he's not touching the floor and putting his fingers in there instead. So, rock on for standing up for your decisions, not that you owe anyone an explanation. No one knows, you are so right, what went into the decision, forced or voluntary. And breastfeeding isn't some kind of freaky indulgence. I cracked and bled for ten weeks, and then had mastitis so many times I lost count. But the cure was always—say it with me—more nursing. It always worked itself out. I needed them as much as they needed me in so many ways. Also? In band camp? One breast produced way more than the other. I called them Bessie and Stingy. And if I didn't keep up with the pumping or nursing, like on a business trip, I'd end the day with one side three cups sizes bigger than the other. Sexxxy. Stand up for what's best for you—just like you already did. Good job!