About this time last year I decided to start weaning Little Man because he was turning one. I had mixed feelings about weaning him, but I felt like I should because it’s just what most people do. And by most people I mean most people who breastfeed through the first year, which is not most people, but any way… I began cutting out feedings one at a time with a plan to have Little Man completely weaned within a month or two.
The first thing to go was pumping at work. This was an easy one for both of us. I was glad to stop carrying that pump back and forth and Little Man was already taking a bottle during the day so switching the bottle to whole milk was not difficult.
The next feeding to go was the early morning feeding which I had been doing before I left for work each day. This went pretty easily. Little Man started sleeping in and I could leave for work before he woke up. This got us down to the after school feeding, before bed feeding, and middle of the night feeding (which I would have loved to have said goodbye to months before.) And this is when it got difficult.
I did not want to let go of the after school feeding because this was our time to snuggle and reconnect. I could sit quietly holding Little Man, let work go, and refocus on the needs of my home. Get ready for job number two so to speak. So I decided to wait until summer break before ending this feeding.
When summer came it was actually quite easy to eliminate this afternoon feeding because we were so busy playing and going that we just didn’t need it any more. And then we were down to two- before bed and middle of the night. I really would have loved to stop that middle of the night feeding, but obviously if that were going to be easy to do I would have done it long ago, so the next feeding to go was before bed. At this point my plan of weaning in one to two months had become four months and we still weren’t there.
Each night I began to try to give Little Man a bottle instead of nursing and each night he cried and fought the bottle and would not give up until I gave in and nursed him. I was feeling frustrated. “He’s just too big for this,” I told myself, “I’ve got to be firm and not give in.”
So, determined to stand my ground, we began another nightly battle. Little Man did not want the bottle. He began patting my chest (his signal that he wanted to nurse.) No, I told him. Tapping harder. No, again. Tears. Heart melting. I gave in and began readying to nurse. Relief spread across his face. He looked at me, “Thank you Momma! Thank you! Thank you!” he said and began to nurse. My resolve was gone. I would not try to wean him. It would happen when it happened. In that moment it was all worth it: engorgements, mastitis, sleep deprivation, worry, anxiety, nursing bras, pumps, breast pads, all of it. And what so many women had told me was true; I loved nursing and I did not want to stop. In the beginning I had thought these women had to be liars (or crazy), but now I knew what they had meant. There is no great gift I could have given Little Man and in that moment there is no greater gift he could have given me. “Thank you Momma! Thank you! Thank you!”
(Just to let you know, Little Man did eventually stop nursing a few months later on his own and with much less stress for both of us.)
Naomi
