While I was away last weekend, I thought I might wean Jonah, but I was on the fence about it. Cold turkey isn’t really the way I like to do things, but he’s almost 17 months old, and the problem is, the child won’t leave me alone for two seconds. Like his sister before him, he wants to nurse whenever he wants to nurse, as often as he wants to nurse. And I’d like him to nurse two or three times a day at most. All attempts to pare down the nursing had gone, let’s see…how shall I put this? The opposite of well. I don’t really want to be nursing a two-year-old again, like I did with Sophie. So I went to Miami armed with a breast pump to give myself relief, but I left Jonah at home with Daddy and some bottles and cups of whole milk. I thought, “We’ll see what happens. Maybe when I get home, he will just be done.”
Ha ha, hilarious. While I was gone, Jonah did not forget his love of nursing. When we arrived home from the airport last Sunday, he immediately started trying to nurse. He was going crazy, fussing and flailing. I decided to have Bobby make him a bottle, and see if he would take the bottle from me. So Bobby handed me a bottle, and after a brief protest, Jonah started taking it. I held him while he slurped that milk down greedily
It was the first time I have ever given my baby boy a bottle.
It pretty much ripped me apart. I don’t know why, but I was not expecting it to hurt like it did.
As I held him, and he held his bottle, I began to cry, then shake with sobs. Hot tears rolled rapidly down my face and splashed onto Jonah’s plump baby cheeks. He reached one hand up, like he does when he’s nursing, and played with my ear while I snuggled him close and cried.
I guess I wasn’t ready.
Later that day, I did nurse him at his nap time. I felt relief as he nursed and cuddled me, relief that I could still have this if I wanted it, if Jonah needed it. That my trip out of town hadn’t taken this closeness away. I discovered I wanted to hold on just a little bit longer. He is my last baby, after all. I just don’t think cold turkey is going to cut it, for either of us.
By the end of the evening I’d decided that since Jonah will take a bottle from me (but not, as I’ve since discovered, a cup in lieu of nursing), that I am going to cut back significantly on nursing and get the weaning process jump-started. This week I’ve only been nursing him in the mornings when he wakes, with two or three exceptions when he just wore me down. Most of the time he will take the bottle from me, but a few times he has just been adamant about nursing even after a bottle. For the most part, it is going well – better than I expected. I feel like, for the moment, we are both in a good place with this.
I’m thinking about one more month of nursing. I can already tell my milk supply has dropped, and he’ll be eighteen months then. I’ve got some health-related things to take care and I’d like to be done nursing sooner than later to work on those. So, we’re getting there. It’s nice to have a weaning plan, and it’s nice to be the one in charge of the plan.
As much as it will be nice to not be on a tether anymore, I know I will miss it. My baby is so sweet when he nurses each morning. And I do love him so.
