I've been doing some reading about weaning and I have learned there are basically 3 ways to wean: abrupt weaning, mother-led weaning and baby-led weaning. I guess I am going to do a combination of mother-led and baby-led. I am not in a hurry to begin weaning him off of the breast milk...I know that the immunities will continue to protect him against all kinds of sicknesses, especially with the bad flu season everyone is worried about. I should knock on wood, but BBZ has been healthy without so much as a snotty nose since his discharge in the middle of July! I really do believe that my breast milk has protected him against illnesses, and it will continue to do so as long as I choose to breastfeed. So anyway, what I am looking forward to is to stop pumping at work. I am SO OVER IT!!!! I can't believe how much I am over it. I will have to cut pumping out slowly, because if I stop pumping cold turkey I will be extremely uncomfortable until my body adjusts. But even cutting down to 1 pumping session a day is something I cannot wait for! I think I will cut out one of the 2 pumping sessions within the next 2 weeks and mix the breast milk I send with him to daycare with whole milk to get him used to it. Then I can continue to nurse him at home until he is ready to stop.
I was at a great store called Kangaroo Kids one day when BBZ was pretty new and I was talking with a mom of a nursing toddler about how I was not quite comfortable nursing in public, but I wanted to be. She said that as soon as I am comfortable nursing in public, people will say he is too old to be nursing. I pretty much took that as no matter what, someone is going to disagree, or judge me as a mom, and you know what...that's OK! At one point I said I wouldn't dare go past a year, but now that the year mark is right around the corner, I see why people keep doing it. Part of it is that I do enjoy it, but I don't want BBZ to be dependent on me for longer than he needs to be. I want to gently encourage him to eat more solid food, find ways to sooth himself, and when he is ready, nursing will end. I know it won't be next week, and I hope it isn't until he is 2, but this will be an adventure for both of us, as I learn to let go and he learns a first of many lessons in independence. My coworker spoke a poem once that I loved, but I couldn't remember any of it besides "babies don't keep", so while searching for it I found the following excerpt...
Babies Don't Keep By Stephanie I'm what most would call an "attached" parent in the sense that I pretty much never put my baby down. She sleeps with me and she nurses whenever she wants (even if it means I have to pull the car over). I hold her a lot and wear her in a sling throughout the day or when we're out instead of keeping her in a car seat. I do most, if not all of that, because that is what makes her- and me- happy. It works. It's our groove. The dance we do. I understand other Moms might not understand. And probably think I need professional help.
I do put her down if I need to.
But if I don't want to, and she doesn't mind the snuggles and smooches, then I see no harm in indulging. I do not think a baby that is held too much will not learn to walk. Heck, Gray was worn constantly in the sling and was my earliest crawler and then was walking at 11 months. I do not think holding a baby too much will spoil them. Someone reminded me long ago that items that are left on a shelf and forgotten spoil.
So quiet down, you. You who think you know better than me, the mother of this precious child. I'm going to go on rocking my baby, 'cause babies don't keep.
Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.
Ahhh, what a lovely poem. I do not pretend to think that all moms should breastfeed past a year. Perhaps I will wish BBZ didn't if this goes on longer than I would prefer, but I will do what I think is best for my child, and onlookers can judge however they see fit. We will go on doing our little dance together, as the above mother said so eloquently. I also recently read a story that a mother wrote that compared weaning to helping her child balance on the balance beam..."don't let go" her daughter said to her, and as the mother walked beside her, helping her find her own balance, how afraid she thought her daughter would be if she let go too soon, before her daughter had her balance? She held on and gently guided her daughter until she realized that her daughter was a few steps ahead, balancing herself. Looking back, the mother couldn't remember who let go first.
- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton
Ahhh, what a lovely poem. I do not pretend to think that all moms should breastfeed past a year. Perhaps I will wish BBZ didn't if this goes on longer than I would prefer, but I will do what I think is best for my child, and onlookers can judge however they see fit. We will go on doing our little dance together, as the above mother said so eloquently. I also recently read a story that a mother wrote that compared weaning to helping her child balance on the balance beam..."don't let go" her daughter said to her, and as the mother walked beside her, helping her find her own balance, how afraid she thought her daughter would be if she let go too soon, before her daughter had her balance? She held on and gently guided her daughter until she realized that her daughter was a few steps ahead, balancing herself. Looking back, the mother couldn't remember who let go first.