Sunday, February 26, 2006

My Girl Friday



Don't offer, don't refuse. That's what the La Leche partisans say. That's the way weaning happens. I guess that happened to us last night. My nursing partner listened actively to the first half a Chapter 1, In which we are introduced to Winnie-the-Pooh and some Bees, and the stories begin. Waning at nigh-night time she slips down our duvet, declaring sleepy. Alright then, "Off you go to your bed, honey. Daddy finish the story in your room."

OK, she says.

This won't work, I speak inwardly.

Toddler incarnate, sticky jammie feet on the hardwood floor find their way to her room and then comes her request, "Up, please." Into bed she goes. Daddy reads. I lie on the floor listening to her drift off without me; mixed up with fear, relief, pride and loneliness. It isn't really the first time. It is simply the first time without any nursing in advance. It is obvious she is ready. Me, I am more than the cliche not so much.

The tears roll down my childish cheeks summoning every one of my core weaknesses previously well developed by my life experience of breakups. Sob, sigh.. as her heels bang the mattress and I know her eyes will close momentarily .. smile. Bump, bump, bump. My mind has drifted to the baby inside of me. Nuthatch baby, you and I are lucky. Already, your sister helps us. If it were up to me I would drag out nursing to something untenable for all of us. But, Friday's child knows better. Her fabled disposition is making it impossible for the clueless to overlook the way forward.

Maybe, last night will be the new routine, maybe not. But I continue to be humbled by my little girl. She has from day one dragged me forward. Many times I have had to say, 'Well, I'm glad you know what you're doing, baby.' That was actually my first approach to breastfeeding. I will try to revive it at this end for us. She is so amazingly independent. All despite my mewing tendencies.

Wish her luck.

ps... As I tried to rock her in my arms today for naptime again she asked, "Down, please." I made her the promise as we moved to the chair more comfortable for us both just this last time, honey - Mommy needs a hug, please. OK, she agreed. Wish me luck. I sure don't want to let her down, sorry case that I am.

9 Comments:

Blogger L. said...

Can`t relate.

I had to smear tobasco on my boobs to make them less appealing to my last little guy.

4:44 p.m.  
Blogger the stefanie formerly known as stefanierj said...

Oh, Mo-wo, I have tears in my eyes. Such a sweet, heartbreaking post. My body decided to wean D when he was 8 mos. old, and it was very, very, sad for me. I can only imagine how hard this is for you.

My mama has always said that every parenting decision has to be made with BOTH the parent and child in mind, not just the child. So you ask for all the hugs and kisses you need to get yourself through this!! I'll be thinking of *all* of you, sending love-vibes your way.

6:45 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

oh! what a sweet post. i'm already not looking forward to giving up nursing...i have a nine month old, and hope to be pregnant again within the nest six months or so.

today i offered three times in a row and was refused. i feel like it's beginning already, and i was moved to tears.

7:21 p.m.  
Blogger jess said...

the last feeding before bed is the sweetest, most cherished time in both of our days

aww...i think giving up just one feeding is so hard on the mommy. i cried when we stopped the 1am and that one sucked! i would find myself watcing the sweetest boy sleeping peacefully and missing him (and having totally engorged boobs, whle they adjusted)

funny how they don't even notice they are giving it up when they are ready

7:58 p.m.  
Blogger mo-wo said...

L. I had your method in mind from my first raising of this topic. As all we have in the house is a Chukka Scotch Bonnet Pepper sauce that I think might case permanent damage to the areolas...I am thrilled it didn't come to that.

Mommymatic: Thanking you for the love.

Mamak: Nice to hear from you. I am glad I am not alone in having my -- what is it -- sentimental side about nursing.

Jess: Nice to hear from you, too. Yep, it is really something how they adjust. I always say that a child's life is change but on this one I don't seem to be getting my own message.

9:22 p.m.  
Blogger Granny said...

It's wonderful watching them grow and sad at the same time. Lovely post.

Thanks for your comment about Rochelle and the drawing (speaking of watching our kids grow).

1:27 a.m.  
Blogger Andrea said...

ahh you have made me cry.
I love putting my daughter to bed but I am so ready to start to wean her. She on the other hand is totally not willing to let go just yet. If anything she seems to be wanting even more.
May have to use the L technique in a few months.

7:57 p.m.  
Blogger Heather said...

I read this post several days ago, and for some reason I keep thinking of it. You articulated that feeling so well - that mix of loss and pride and love and sadness.

When I had my appendicitis I couldn't nurse Miles for five days, and was surprised by how much I missed it. Nursing is such a direct connection, and they have to sit still and let you hold them.

I know I will be sad when I stop nursing, but I hope that Miles handles it as well as e. You are clearly doing something right.

(And Miles is a Friday baby too).

5:50 p.m.  
Blogger nonlineargirl said...

Thanks for pointing me back to this. She does ask at naptime when we are together (squeezing her fist together in that little cow-teat sign for milk). I think we'll start day weaning during Chris's fall break in a couple of weeks.

8:19 a.m.  

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