Last Monday we took DS to allergist. Turns out that he (DS, not allergist, though allergist might be too) is allergic to many things, including soy. So we got asked many questions on his food history, one of the questions revolving around the formula we gave to DS when he was young. Somehow "he was fully nursed and didn't get any formula" didn't sink in as fast as one would hope. So we got asked a few follow up questions," ProSobe? Isomil?" I repeated my previous answer that DS didn't get any formula, milk or soy based. Then I received the oh so dreaded by anyone nursing beyond the standard six months question: "When did you stop nursing?" To which I had to reply,"Um, last night, maybe?" "Oh," said the doc and the examination room suddenly felt even smaller than it was. But only for a short minute because I am so past caring about that.
Don't wreck your brains trying to figure out how old DS is. Next week he will be 28 months (that's two years and 4 months - calculation for those who are not mathematically gifted). Yes, I am still nursing, though not out of conviction, but mostly out of laziness to change things and because I am a pushover. But then again, why should I stop if neither I nor my spouse nor our pediatrician see a problem with it? And one would expect that I would get used to telling this to people of medical profession, who should, at least theoretically, applaud what I am doing. After all, it's only American Pediatric Association recommends nursing until one, European pediatricians insist on at least two years. But every time it is getting harder to admit to our shameful secret because with each time DS is older.
But there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Last time, about five months ago, I went through this confession at a different doctor. Afterwards, I was stopped by the nurse at the office. She said, "I've heard what you told the doctor." Unable to stop myself, I said, "Yes, I know, I am a freak." To which she replied, "When I have my kids, I would love to do what you are doing." Somehow her words embarrassed me even more than anything previously said. If a completely stranger is proud of your accomplishment (and accomplishment it is - I was working full time since DS was two months old), why can't I? So from that point on I refused to be embarrassed.
And now I wear (or at least try to wear) my badge with pride: I am a FREAK!!! I am a SUPERFREAK!!!