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Sunday, July 20, 2008
Weaning leaves ache in my chest
Did you miss nursing when you were finally done? Do you think it’s tougher to get babies off bottles or breast?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
The milk ducts under my arms ache and my breasts are swollen and burning. They think it’s time to nurse but my 16-month old baby has other ideas.
Over the last six months she has gradually cut herself back from nursing 12 times a day to once or twice. Some days she wants to nurse more, other days she’s so busy she doesn’t even think about it.
Our little girl is self weaning, which is natural, but it leaves me with another pain in my chest. My heart is heavy and sad that my special time with my last baby is coming to an end.
Nursing has been one of my favorite experiences of motherhood so far. I’ve spent four and half of the last seven years (not consecutively) nursing babies. That’s a lot of time spent on one task — I could have gone through medical school in that time.
Nursing didn’t come easy with my first baby but we made it through, and from there it’s been wonderful. I always looked forward to that quiet time with each child. You get to stop everything that you’re doing (without feeling guilty) and stroke her, kiss her and love her while you nourish her.
I weaned both of my older children at around 18 months. Twelve months seemed too early. (They were still babies.) Two-years-old seemed a little long. To me, 18 months seemed just about right.
I was two months pregnant with my son when I finally weaned by oldest daughter. (I was happy to nurse, but I refused to tandem nurse a toddler and a newborn.) My son nursed for the last time during the “Polar Express” movie at the Mall of Georgia. He didn’t ask for it later that night at bedtime, and never did again. We were done. It was sad.
I’m expecting this baby to finish in the next two months. If she wants to nurse longer, I’ll let her, but I don’t think she will.’
For the most part, we’re working under the “don’t offer/don’t refuse” theory of weaning. If she asks for it then I’ll nurse her. I have, however, tried a few distractions to keep her from asking.
A sippy cup of milk or some crunchy cereal helps her not think about my boobs. Also not wearing shirts or bras that she can easily get into helps deter her. She’s quite funny trying to dig for my breast through a non-nursing bra.
But naptime and bedtime can be the toughest. Every night of her life nursing has been part of her routine. Like Pavlov’s dog, she’s trained to expect it before going to sleep.
So I’m trying to recondition her to focus on something else while we rock each night. I found out by accident that she is mesmerized by the first two songs of “Hairspray.” She immediately relaxes as Tracy Turnblad sings “Good Morning Baltimore.” And by the time the dancers are singing “The Nicest Kids in Town,” I can feel her body heavy against my chest and know she is ready to be laid in her crib for the night. For a baby who rarely looks at the television, it’s odd this trick works. But we won’t question it!
I like the “Hairspray” method of weaning because I’m still getting quiet time with her — rocking her, stroking her, feeling her little head get warm as she drifts off to sleep. These are the moments you miss as they get older.
I keep telling my husband as soon as she’s done nursing I’m going away all alone for a weekend. (I haven’t been alone in seven years.) Pretty soon, my body will be mine again — a bittersweet prospect indeed.
