Transitional Lens
There are so many good comments on this post, and I’m not just saying that because most of you agreed with me. There were also some great counterpoints, and the peacemaker in me almost wants to switch sides and go all People’s Republic of China on you*, if only to balance things out a little. I said almost. Needless to say, there will be no babies joining our family in the immediate future, which is mostly unfortunate in that being pregnant right now would give me a better excuse for feeling so bloated and squishy all the time.
(*Did that make any sense? I reread this sentence and thought “Will people get that I’m talking about China’s family size restriction or will they think I was confusing China’s position on international relations with Switzerland’s?”)
(That last post also reminded me of the good old days, when I had more commenters than lurkers. But maybe all those people who enter my giveaways aren’t, in fact, drive-by contest whores and are instead my loyal but silent readers? Hello? Is that you? That said, I also lurk more than I comment these days and am a total contest whore myself, so I can’t talk. You reap what you sow and all that. Besides, y’all know how much I love whores, right?)
Anyway, all day yesterday, I was so into the two-kid/one-kid debate and the comments that I wanted to respond to everyone because you all had such unique experiences and perspectives when it comes to having children (and how many, and when, and why), but then the day got away from me and so many of my replies were just “YES! YESSSSSS!” that I figured the better solution would be to just save my very many and extensive thoughts for another day and in the meantime just invite any of you BlogHer attendees to track me down in a few weeks(!) so we can discuss the issue over some promotional snacks in a promotional lounge while we wear our special fancy BlogHer clothes even though everyone knows we usually look like this.
And speaking of BlogHer, it occurred to me recently that it’s going to take me away from home for four days, which will be rough for a number of reasons but, I fear, mostly for the very real physical pain that I will feel if I don’t successfully wean my toddler ASAP. I DO NOT want to haul a breast pump across the country, nor do I want to sing through the tears as I serenade myself with “Express Yourself” under the hot flow of the Hilton hotel shower (which I will be sharing with Angella, although not at the same time, much to Simon’s dismay), and besides, Wombat is nineteen months old and IT’S TIME.
Back in my more confident parenting days (i.e., before I actually had a kid), I’d decided that the time to stop breastfeeding was the time at which my child could ask for it, a decision made, in part, by one traumatic episode in 2005 during which I was at a midnight showing of the new Star Wars movie and I was seated next to a child old enough to say, “Mama, can I have a suck?” which, no, NO, that is not for me. (I try not to judge, but if your kid is old enough to attend a midnight showing of a PG-13 movie, he’s either too old for the boob or maybe just old enough, in which case that boob should not belong to his mother.)
It’s been many, many months since Wombat learned to sign for milk–a development that I regarded as a hazy gray area when it came to weaning because he hadn’t yet turned one and he wasn’t “asking” for it with “words”–but for the last few months he’s been saying “Boobie! Boobie!” as he pumps his fist and gives me a stern look, and there’s no denying that this violates my rule…the one I laid down somewhat arbitrarily five years ago as a non-parent when I had no idea what I was talking about. So…yeah. Simon has been saying “It’s time” for a while now, but the more he pushes, the more I resist, insisting that the decision has nothing to do with him and is between me and my son alone. But he’s right. He’s totally right. It IS time. Breastfeeding has been awesome (mostly because it allows me to be lazy when it comes to getting out of bed in the morning), but I’m tired of being the milk cow and I’m frustrated that Wombat reacts to “no” with an apocalyptic meltdown and I don’t think any of us needs it anymore, not physically or emotionally. (Plus, if I’m going to have another kid ever, I need to give my body a break.)
The situation as it now stands is this: Wombat nurses in the morning if he’s up before we leave for daycare, and then he asks for it as soon as we get home in the evening. He hasn’t nursed to sleep for over a year, and he never gets it during the day or when we’re out in public. At this point, it’s part of his routine more than anything, and I know full well (and I’ve seen it in action) that interrupting the routine and replacing nursing time with something else will absolutely work, at least in the short term. I just need to stick with it. Even if it means I have the apocalyptic meltdown because I don’t want to get up that early with him.
It’s funny. Even now, I’m still fooling myself into thinking I have control. I thought Wombat would self-wean and I wouldn’t have to make any tough decisions or play the bad guy. And I also thought that I’d be in charge of deciding when it was time to transition from a crib to a toddler bed–I had a whole plan: we’d talk about it for a week beforehand, we’d go pick out a bed and some new sheets together, we’d bribe him with stickers if we had to–but, well, we all know how that turned out. So, at what point do I just scoot over into the passenger’s seat and give my kid the keys to the car since he’s been driving this thing all along? And does this mean he’s going to potty train himself?
I know! Kids. You think you’re in charge, but it’s all an illusion.
I suggest (as you would probably have done anyway) cutting out the evening feed first – whisk him off for something special and fun and/or differently delicious as soon as he gets in the door. That will probably go easier than you think, especially after a couple of days.
I have no idea how to get over the morning one, since I have no track record at all on that. I think you just have to get out of bed. Boo.
Talking to him about it will probably help, too. He won’t like it, but he will understand. Good luck!
I wish I had some pithy advice, but all I can think is “I’m about to become a parent in a few months and every blog I read involving children is pounding it into my head that all my expectations will change and I’m never going to have any idea what the hell is going on and how are we going to do this and ZOMG!!!!1!11!”
And then my head explodes and I sit here like a total pistachio.
So, that’s awesome. Maybe it’s a GOOD thing I tend to lurk more than I comment.
I lurk, I always lurk. I never really leave comments because I don’t really have that much to say. I’m just another one of those creepy people that likes to read about other peoples lives.
Watching our two week old nurse the other day, my husband asked me “how long do babies breastfeed?” My answer (oh, somewhere between a year and two) had him laughing and saying “so, you’re going to be physically attached to her for the next two years.” Uhm, no dude, she will not be nursing every two to three hours for that entire time, and that’s why we’re buying a pump. On the other hand, he has a point… Best not to think about it right now. Besides, baby should be waking up soon and my boobs hurt.
My daughter just turned three and is still nursing. I really thought we’d nurse until she was done, but I hadn’t anticipated that she would love nursing so much. So, I will have to end it. On one hand, it’s so cozy and sweet and calming for her, and for me too. But on the other hand, I am really really done. I’d like my body all for me for a while before we try for a second child. I tried to go cold turkey on her 3rd birthday, but that coincided with a cross-country move and complete upheaval of everything in her life. So instead we switched to nursing for the count of 10 before bed and in the morning. It’s working pretty well–she still gets the comfort of nursing, but I only have to feel like a milk cow for about 40 seconds per day. We’ll stop for real once we’re a little more settled (still in transition from the move).
Also, as for your 4 day trip. I have taken a 4 day trip without her, and didn’t need to pump. Since you’re not nursing all that much anymore, you may be just fine.
-Tobie: milkcow, lurker, SLC ex-pat, Into the Woods lover
I imagine the whole how-long-to-breastfeed question would have been difficult for me had I been able to successfully breastfeed. I was pretty much forced to stop around 4 months due to a craptastic supply and never got to really enjoy the experience. As such, I’ve sort of retained my pre-baby stance that once a kid can ask for it, it’s time to stop. Obviously that’s easy for me to say now; who knows what I’d have thought had my attempts been successful.
Good luck with the weaning. Sorry I don’t really have any advice on this one. See, it’s unhelpful comments like this that make me think I’m better off remaining a lurker…
Tobie–That’s amazing! I can’t imagine getting Wombat on board with a ten-second nurse, but it’s so crazy it just might work. Then again…I think we really do need to just be done because for us it isn’t really a relaxing experience anymore. He wants to nurse in downward dog with one leg extended, kicking Simon in the head, and whichever hand is free is prone to wandering to the unoccupied boob and…fiddling with things, which, UGH, NO, NO MORE, STOP.
Besides, as you and I both know, nice is different than good.
The whole situation just sucks.
Get it? Sucks? Like sucking? You know, on a boob?
Ha! Ha! Oh, never mind.
You know that we’re totally going to have to stage a shower photo (with strategically-placed shower curtains) for Simon’s benefit, yes?
As for the topic at hand, my kids weaned themselves…or so I thought with Graham. After going through it the second time around, I realized that going down to only one or two feedings per day = my well runs dry.
Also – he may very well potty train himself. Emily did.
I totally dreaded weaning my then 21 (ish?) month old. She wanted to nurse ALL the time for like 2 seconds a session. I finally reached my breaking point (in the bath tub, ahem) had a little discussion with her and told her that she could have milk in a cup but that no more milk from Mama. There was 12 seconds of pouting and a request for milk in a cup. The. End. No drama, an occasional “hey shiny object look over here!!” moment, but yeah non-issue. Night weaning her was rough but I think she was old enough to get over it. It was only after we were finished and I missed it that there was sadness. But yeah, you both will survive but say bye bye to fun bags and hello to mom sock boobs
yeah, me too. Sorry.
I like to think of myself as a reader, not a lurker, because then the internet feels like the New York Times, not someone’s bedroom window. And I think we all know that the internet is a lot like someone’s bedroom window.
I had such a hard time learning to nurse that we’re still (at 19 months) going strong. My attitude is: initial investment made, gonna reap all the rewards possible. And for me the current main reward is: QUIET PLANE TODDLER. Seriously, could not go across country to see the parents without the suckle suck.
When I weaned Sadie, I was only nursing in the morning & evening like you, and I didn’t end up having any of that uncomfortable engorge-y painfulness at all. I DID get one small blocked duct over the course of a few days, though. But the pump never helped with those, only the baby. She did me a solid and got me through, but then that was it. For some reason, I was really afraid of a painful weaning process (physically and emotionally) and it went SO much easier than I expected. Good luck, my friend.
At least we don’t call “lurkers” something worse, like, say, “peepers,” which is how I’m referring to Wombat’s junk in front of Simon because it makes him all huffy.
Kathleen–Don’t even get me started on the convenience factor of nursing. It’s the fail-proof reset button, and I will sorely miss it when I fly with him solo(!) to SLC at the end of next month. YIKES.
I’m in the same boat as you (well, almost). I have a cross-country trip planned for October, when my son will be 13 months. I refuse to bring my pump. Refuse. So I have a plan to wean him, starting when we get back from vacation in mid-August. And by plan, I mean week-by-week schedule of dropped pumping sessions, increased solids intake, etc. What do you think the chances are of him just going along with my plan with no complaints?
I do love nursing (especially since we struggled at first so it still seems like a bit of a victory) but it is tiresome being the only one to provide the ultimate comfort/reset button, as you said. And with his recent discovery that two top teeth plus two bottom teeth equals BITING, I’m pretty much ready to be done.
Loyal reader. I’m just not a “commenter”. Love your blog
I didn’t get to read all the last comments, so I don’t know if anyone told you, but I don’t want you to start weening without this knowledge! Weening can send you into a major funk, as in depression! It happened to me when Logan decided to up and stop without warning. We went from 6 feedings to zero and I went into a major depression (it only lasted for a week or so. I researched it after I no longer recognized the monster in the mirror). So….ween slowly and hold on!
Also, thanks for the last post. I loved reading it and all the comments. No matter what you decide, you will make the right decision. An only child with loving parents will do fine and so will one with many siblings.
We are sticking with one. I always wanted two. My husband always wanted none. So, we ended up with our amazing son. He compromised with me, so I think I can with him. So, I am doing it for my amazing man. He is the greatest father I have ever seen and am thankful he gave me our son. I don’t know….
de-lurking.
My son, going on 15-months, went on a nursing strike for a month when we moved in May. Like the previous poster said, it sent me into a major funk. It took a lot of mental reasoning for me to accept that he was weaned. But I kept pumping a couple times a day, because I didn’t want my supply to dry up, and sure enough, he came back to it once things got settled.
So now I guess we’re in for the long haul. I’ve read that self-weaning happens anywhere from 18-24 months, so it’s possible that wombat will still wean on his own, but I totally understand wanting to stop for selfish reasons. My son can’t just lay still and nurse, he’s always waving his free arm and leg, and I’m getting tired of being kicked in the face, or having fingers poked in my nose and mouth!
So I guess where I’m going with this is that I’m conflicted too! Of course, my son is still a pretty crappy eater, so at this point he might still need the nutrition from breastmilk. He starts day care 3 days a week in August, I’m hoping he’ll pick up better eating skills there!