Mommy Ever After » weaning

On Motherhood

mommyeverafter — Tue, 11 Mar 2014 23:49:15 +0000

By today’s standards, I waited a good while before having my second child. I get the whole “two under two” and “done with diapers” things, they just weren’t my bag. Instead, my kids are three and a half years apart to the week. In hindsight I am so glad that I did wait; (for so many reasons, not the least of which being my current journey.)
This past week my family went away. I was with my husband, my parents, my daughter who is a month shy of four years old and my four month old. This trip got me thinking a lot; a lot about where I’ve been most acutely and recently, and also in my “career” as a mom.
When I was getting ready for my second child, I did not anticipate how utterly, astoundingly and completely different everything would be (from penis to postpartum.)
But I am different now. So much has changed in the world and in my life and in me.
For instance, in shopping in the hotel sundry store for a rash guard for my daughter, I did a few things that I never would have done 3 and a half years ago: First, I bought the shirt in navy blue. Then, I joked with the woman behind the counter about my stretch marks. And then I voluntarily shared with her that I am no longer nursing my son. (I am still the queen of TMI, some things just don’t change, evidently.)
Later that day, my son had a poopy diaper at the pool. The family bathroom was occupied (seemingly indefinitely) so I braved the regular ladies room and changed him right there on the floor. A far cry from how I used to agonize about taking the baby anywhere, let alone changing him.
When people ask me how old my son is, I say “four months”. Really, he is four and a half. With my first child I would have said something like, “Oh he’s a day shy of 18.5 weeks” (and I am totally making up that number of weeks as I have no idea how many weeks my son has been here.)
And I really got to thinking about this on the plane ride home. By the way, I still don’t like to fly. Why couldn’t that have miraculously changed?! Come on, man!
And I thought about the Flight Attendant’s instructions. In case of a decrease in cabin pressure, you are to put on your own mask before assisting anyone else. Including the person next to you. Including your child.
This goes against every inherent instinct we have and also against the grain of what we are taught as mothers; we are taught that sacrifice=love.
But now I am beginning to realize, slowly, the healthier mom actually=healthier baby. That is why I gave up nursing my son at 10 weeks, despite my desperation to remain a “breastfeeding mother”.
I was just putting on my own oxygen mask.
And because I was able to breathe, to suck air into my lungs without passing out, I have been better equipped to take care of my children than I would have otherwise.
During our flight’s landing I was able to ease my son’s ear pressure by sticking my finger in his mouth and letting him suck. My hands were clean, but still…Never would I have dared to touch my baby’s mouth with my finger three and a half years ago. But I didn’t have my boob to go-t0 and the finger did the job and he was happy and did not make a peep the entire flight. And it soothed him. Which soothed me.
So sometimes sacrifice just equals sacrifice.
But love always equals love.

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Um…

mommyeverafter — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 02:51:36 +0000

So, I just decided to start weaning my daughter.
She has been breastfed for 13 months and 20 days, and save a few sips of cow’s milk here and there, it has been mama’s milk and mama’s milk only since we first met, all of those many days, and feedings, ago.
I remember when nursing her used to be so hard.
Now, not nursing her seems insurmountable.
But, I think it’s time.
I know it is.
And, I came to this conclusion out of the blue.
(And, by out of of the blue, I mean while I was sitting and chatting with my sister, and my little girl climbed up onto my lap, grabbed my boob out of my sports bra, started to nurse and then said “More. MMMMM”.)
So yes. It is time.
Tonight, I asked some people for help. I may now be an expert on how to breastfeed my baby, but I have no idea how to go about stopping. It is such a part of us, now. It is such a huge, giant, enormous part of our lives. And now, it is ending.
As soon as I said the words,
I am ready to wean,
I started to feel sick to my stomach.
Does that mean that I am not, truly, ready?
Am I just subscribing to the societal “norms”, in believing that “once your child can ask for it, it’s time to stop.”?
Well, I guess only time
and my sports bra
will tell.
Please, wish us both luck.

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Hello, (st)operator?

mommyeverafter — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 01:51:55 +0000

I am a proud breastfeeding mama.
I am certainly no lactivist,
and I certainly believe in doing what works best for you.
but, for us, what’s certainly best has been boobies over bottles.
My daughter has been exclusively breastfed for 10 1/2 months now,
which, if I’m being honest, is about 4 1/2 months longer than I’d originally planned,
or even hoped for.
I didn’t have lofty breastfeeding goals to start;
in fact, when I had some challenges with nursing in the hospital after my c-section, I promised myself that I would listen to my body,
trust my instincts,
and never beat myself up;
I would applaud myself for what I did,
and for all of the positives.
If I breastfed her for a day,
great.
For a month,
wonderful.
We would go with the,
uh,
flow.
I have had my share of breastfeeding ups and downs,
but, all in all, I can honestly say that I love it.
I cherish this special time we have together,
and the one thing that my daughter and I share that can never and will never be replaced.
All that being said,
the question that continues to pop into my head,
now that my baby is a standing, cruising, talking, understanding, knowing real person, teetering on the edge of toddlerhood,
is when do I stop?
How do I stop?
Do I want to?
Do I need to?
Okay, I realize those are several questions,
but come on, this is some serious stuff.
And, fortunately for all of us, there’s no right answer.
So, my current plan is to go to one year, when she can switch right over to cow’s milk in a cup.
And I feel good about this.
Except, if I’m being totally truthful, there is a small, nagging feeling inside my chest that tells me that I will really, really miss this when it’s all over.
I will miss the sounds and feelings I’ve grown so accustomed to.; when my baby looks at me, in the eyes, and it’s just the two of us in the world;
I will miss being able to nourish my daughter with nothing more than my own body; I will miss this primal, instinctual, age-old act that bonds me to her and the universe.
And then, there are times like today, when my daughter popped her head up from nursing, grabbed my boob and held it up to her ear like a telephone and said “Hi!”
It is those times when I look at my big, little girl,
and think of all of the sushi and champagne and real, strong caffeinated coffee at the end of this tunnel
and a feeling of readiness washes over me.
So, 6 weeks and counting.
But, as with all other things, I can only plan so much.
I’m just along for the ride, after all.
So, dear 6-weeks-in-the-future-me:
You’re weaning. Woohoo! Stay strong. She’s still your baby. She always will be. Your bond will last forever,
breastfeeding or not.
Now, go find some champagne. Thanks! Love, Mommy the Milkmaid.

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