Weaning

In the beginning I cried. I knew I was going to breastfeed my daughter, and I was determined. I have a mother who breastfed both her children, a mother in law who breastfed, and two friends who breastfed their children. Everyone smiled and applauded my desire to give my daughter the beautiful gift of perfect milk my body would make just for her. No one mentioned soreness. No one spoke up about 24/7 nursing marathons.

So my daughter was born onto my bare chest. I knew offering the breast within the first hour of birth was ideal. So I pulled aside my nursing bra while my waxy bruised newborn baby licked and mouthed at my nipple. The nurse said "no no, you're doing it wrong." With that she took my fresh out of the oven baby's head with one hand and my breast in the other. She roughly shook both back and forth trying to coax her mouth open my rubbing my nipple against her upper lip. Everything in my body screamed "this doesn't feel right!" yet I grinned numbly while I got a few stitches. I'm not sure why I didn't speak up for myself and my baby and I regret that. Ariana was quietly alert as long as she was on my bare chest and no one touched her. She wailed for the first time when the nurse did that. She clamped her jaw shut between scream. the nurse gave up.

She later nursed when we were in a dimly lit room without the hustle and bustle of the medical staff interfering with nature. She latched on and drank swallows of antibodies, calories, sweet richness, and good bacteria that coated her gut to establish a healthy digestive tract. She fell asleep for the first time since birth and the corners of her mouth twitched up in contentment.



Fast forward to 2 week later. I was sitting and crying holding Ariana who screamed and pushed off of me while I tried to nurse her. I had a surplus of milk and she wouldn't eat. When she did nurse she would slump against me within minutes fast asleep. What was I doing wrong? I got nudges to plow through it, I got suggestions to feed her formula. I got everything but empathetic words. No one told me it was normal for your nipples to be so sore that you can't stand facing the stream of water in the shower because it felt like tiny knives beating on your nipples. No one told me that newborns nursed at most every 3 hours- that it was more like every 1 1/2 hours. So I cried and we struggled. I'm going to put up with this around the clock for a year?! I thought feeling very defeated.



But then it got easier. She got a little bigger and could handle the size and weight of my breasts. I learned that too much of a good thing ISN'T a good thing when it came to a milk supply when she was about a month old. We started getting the hang of this and I learned that just because breastfeeding is natural, doesn't mean it comes naturally to all babies!




Before I knew it she was 6 months old. My initial goal of 1 year seemed so close and too soon to take something away from both of us that we love so much. We both found comfort in nursing. It was a time for me to sit with my feet up and trace the outline of my not-so-little girl's features. Her eyes would still roll back in her head and she would give me sleepy grins as if to say "Thank you for sticking with me, Mommy"

Then came a year. 365 of exploring, learning, growing, changing, and milestones but we always came back to our time nursing. It was always there at the end of the day and the first thing we did every morning. She was eating a large variety of solids- whatever we were eating she had too. But nursing was comfort, nutrition, and bonding that I don't think we could have experienced in any other way. So I decided not to wean her on some arbitrary date. A baby's immune system doesn't mature enough to stand on its own until the age of 2. just because I could tell people she was 12, 13, or 14 months old didn't mean she was too old for mama's milk. For the comfort it was to both of us during teething, long days out with no nap, or just after she had been independent for a while. Nursing brought us back to basics. We would sit skin on skin with her head cradled int he crook of my arm. I imagined my ancestors doing exactly the same with their babies and I smiled. We were a part of something that had been done for thousands of years. Ariana had never been sick, she never doubted that either one of her parents weren't there for her all the time. We were always ready with a hug or pats on her tush. But Mommy had something no one else could give her and I reveled in that. She was growing up and loved to know how everything worked and who everyone was. But only Mommy could give her the ultimate comfort, the ultimate super food when she was having a picky day with meals.

When a child is left to wean on their own terms, the average weaning age is between 2 and 4 years (WHO). A baby's first set of teeth, baby teeth, are actually called milk teeth. The year they get their last set of molars is 4 or 5 years old. Throughout history and in countries where the luxury of pureed baby food or enough at meals to feed the entire family are available babies relied solely on their Mother's milk until they weaned themselves. How amazing would it be too look at your toddler or preschooler and know that their growth and development was all because of a substance that your body makes automatically when s/he was born?!

Now she's 20 months old and weaning. She has been nursing first thing in the morning, before nap time, before bed with the occasional nibble here and there for months now. Then she suddenly dropped down to once every other day. My breasts and my emotions are engorged. I cannot imagine not nursing her and it devastates me to think that she's old enough now to not need to be comforted at Mommy's breast. I offer and she pushes me away or pulls my shirt back down. "No Mama." she giggles as my whole world falls apart. I've so looked forward to her growing and learning but I'm not ready for this chapter of our relationship to be over. I'm not ready. I'm grateful that I was able to give her to option to make this important decision for herself but I never expected it to be this soon. 2 1/3, 3 maybe but not 20 months old. I feel pride in knowing the gift I've been able to give to her for the past 20 months. Something I didn't consider such a great thing 18 months ago! But now I know and I'm trying to cherish every time she climbs in my lap, snuggles on my chest, and tentatively asks "milk?" Not knowing which nursing session will be her last scares me. I don't want her last time to be while I channel surf or stare at the ceiling wishing she would just fall asleep already. I want to remember caressing her hair and cradling her close. I want it to be picturesque and perfect. So I'll be able to tuck they memory away and carry it with me always.



Ariana nursing at 18 months old