The Weaning Post

When my mind and body started doing screwy things over the last couple of months, the brain trust that I consult about most issues (made up of my mom, sister, aunt, a couple of cousins and a few select girlfriends) came to a consensus that the breastfeeding hormones were at odds with the regular hormones and it was resulting in chaos, especially certain times of the month. All of a sudden tons of friends were telling me stories of strange issues they had from long-term breastfeeding. This theory kind of correlated with something my beloved OB/Gyn mentioned at my last annual exam and I kind of went with it.

Problem was, at the time, Mr. Bunch was firmly ensconced in his 4-5 times a day nursing habit. What's worse is that he'd recently begun toddling around and would come grab my shirt whenever the urge struck him (so like a man!). To make matters more difficult (so like a man!) he likes neither cow's milk nor pacifiers. Spoiled baby!! I didn't think there would be any way to get him off the boob!

My beloved pediatrician, with whom I generally disagree about breastfeeding matters, advised me to cut him off cold-turkey. "You'll have a couple of difficult days," he predicted, "and then it will be over." Easy for him to say, not getting to live through those agonizing days. Cold-turkey would not work for us.

Still, I knew the time had come. Although I always, always get sad as my babies leave behind a stage of their babyhood, I also realized that this was best not just for him, but for me and the other 3 people who depend on my (quickly-diminishing) sanity daily. As I turned it over in my mind, I realized that I just can't feel guilty about nursing my 3rd baby exclusively for over 15 months. Therefore, new routines were put in place, Dad took over Brady's bed time, and I broke out the bottles so he could still have something to suck. To my amazement, he did great. He still grabbed my shirt once or twice, but was easily pacified with a bottle of water, a snack, and a snuggle. His 5 times a day turned into just one: first thing in the morning, just before falling back to sleep for a short while.

I can so totally live with this. I get my fix and he gets his. All nursing takes place within the confines of my home, which means I get to go back to wearing my lovely non-nursing bras all day and no longer get funny looks from strangers as I try to wrestle a giant breast-feeding toddler while yelling at my other kids and trying to maintain some semblance of modesty.

Still I'm starting to get signals that this, too, will end soon. Not only have my hormonal issues not completely gone away, but Brady skipped our regular morning appointment today. And never seemed to miss it. Of course, I'm so happy this is his decision instead of something I force him to do for my sake. But I'm still sad, wondering if I've missed our last time in my early-morning grogginess. I hope not. I hope I get one more morning with my little Bunch, to snuggle and nurture and kiss his feet while he looks up at me with smiles in his sleepy eyes. I hope he give me at least one more time to soak it all in for the last time and sadly say good-bye to one of the most fulfilling, lovely parts of motherhood.


Edited to add: Brady indulged me Saturday morning and we had a great time. I don't know if that was the last time. If it was, it was a good one!