Boob be gone

So it looks like we’re winding down our breastfeeding relationship. Which is good. I think. I mean, right? This is what I want, isn’t it? She’s almost 17 months old. Old enough that I personally don’t feel comfortable feeding her in public and haven’t for around 6 months or so. Which is not say I have anything against extended breastfeeding, but I certainly have found my own comfort threshold with it. Eloise and I are starting our first step to growing apart as individuals. And while I will forever and always be Eloise’s mother - a permanent stamp on my identity, Eloise will become more and more Eloise, plain and simple (though far from plain and far from simple is she).

I can now get her to nap and sleep without nursing. A feat I have tried for near on 7 months off and on with no luck. Finally this last week, Eloise and I were ready. I had more resolve to stick it out and she no longer felt this was a battle worth fighting against so hard. So she signed for milk and I calmly gave her a beaker of cow’s milk instead. And I rocked her in my arms and she kicked and screamed and pointed at the old chair we usually nurse in, but I rocked and shushed and patted and after 10 minutes she laid her cheek against mine and started to fall asleep. And the next day it was 5 minutes of screaming. And that night. That night I held her and rocked her for maybe 30 seconds and she indicated that she wanted to be put down in her bed, so I did, and she curled into a ball, butt in the air, and I put the blanket on her, patted her back and left the room.

We are now embarking on day 5 of not nursing and there have unfortunately been many a moment at 1:12am, at 2:29am, at 4:38am that tears have sprung to my eyes while Eloise wailed and thrashed - because of teething, because of a cold, because of a tummy ache, because she likes a good challenge - and I thought I should just give in and sit in that chair and nurse her. But we both need to learn how to calm and be calmed by other means than my milk - and while cutting 2 molars without being able to nurse her through the discomfort has been a baptism of fire, we have stuck through it and she has woken every morning, happy and cheerful and slightly more independent to two very tired parents.

Will I be able to stay as strong tonight if she does the same thing? If she wakes up 4 times and takes a good HOUR to get back to sleep each time? I don’t know. I’m tired. I honestly don’t know. But I do know that Eloise and I are growing up. And I’m a little sad and a lot relieved. Because do you know what stopping to nurse means? It means that I can drink as much sparkling water as I want without it upsetting Eloise’s stomach. It means that I can wear bras that don’t pretend to hold my boobs up by flimsy Lego snaps. IT MEANS THAT I CAN DRINK DURING THE DAY AGAIN.IF I FEEL LIKE IT. IF I AM NOT NAPPING.

Because there are not enough posts on breastfeeding in this world.

Sigh. Breastfeeding. I'm still at it. We're still at it. If you had told me when Eloise was born that I would still be nursing her at 14 months I would have said you clearly don't know me that well. Turns out I don't know me that well.

My plan was to go to 6 months. The disastrous Paris trip knocked back my confidence and I just couldn't bring myself to wean her. So I said we'll nurse until her 1st birthday. Then she can have cow's milk and I can have my boobs back. Or what's left of them.

Well 2 months on from her birthday and we are no closer to being weaned. I had a one week period where I offered her cow's milk more often and was going to take it from there, but I didn't really pursue it much more than that. She still gets a couple glasses of cow's milk a day (which she never finishes) and of course she's going without breast milk when she's at nursery twice a week.

But when she's with me and those little hands are furiously making the sign for milk! milk! milk! Dear GOD woman whip one out and FEED ME! with those big blue eyes I cave in nearly every time.

I don't breastfeed her in public anymore, because I'm slightly embarrassed by it now. Partly because we're not feeding as often so I'm more aware of it. At the beginning you're feeding your baby more often then you're not feeding her and if I hadn't nursed her in public back then I would have turned into a reclusive mole person who smells faintly of mildew and cream. And partly because I remember how I felt seeing a mother nurse a baby/child Eloise's age and it kinda creeped me out. I'm vain enough to care what others think of me and I just don't have the passion for breast feeding to back myself up. If I were a militant breast feeder who had read all the facts and chose to nurse my child until, what is it age 4? as recommended by the WHO? Then I would happily nurse in public and proudly explain my pro-breastfeeding stance to any naysayers. But I am not a militant breast feeder. Sure, I believe if you are able to, in the early stages, giving your baby milk created especially for him/her with your own friggin' body is the best option. But do you know what trumps that option? Making sure your baby does not go hungry and that you as a FAMILY are happy and healthy.

No, I am still breastfeeding my 14-month old baby because I am one lazy mother. I am feeding her with my own milk because I just can't face the week it would take to train her to nap without nursing. I am nursing her because on the nights when she wakes up at 4am, popping open my nursing bra and falling back to sleep in the chair next to her crib is the easiest option IN THE MOMENT. I am nursing her because on the rare occasions when she has a total freak out and is crying hysterically I know the quickest way to calm her down is to nourish her with my own body in the best way I know how. And if I am honest with myself, I am still nursing Eloise because I am afraid that if I stop I will no longer be as important to her as I am right now.

I know it needs to stop sometime. Sometime in the not so distant future. There is a long night at the pub with my name written in beer foam all over it. I want to take drugs again - no, not the fun bad kind, just some sudafed once in a while would be nice. I want to one day not be such an integral part of her bedtime routine. I want to know what other super powers as a mother I have up my sleeve. Powers that I have yet to discover because Eloise and I still can't get over the fact that my body? PRODUCES FOOD.

Onzieme mois avec mademoiselle Eloise

Eloise -

You started this month with 3 teeth and are ending it with 8. Lucky for me, most of those teeth came in the same week - the week your father was out of town. Considering the fact that you at one point had 4 teeth breaking the surface of those shiny little gums of yours at once I thought you handled it very well. I didn't once get a phone call from nursery asking if they could give you calpol and during the day with me you were great. At times a bit more clingy and whiny but easily distracted from the discomfort and quick with a smile. At night however, you were not so tolerant of the pain, and there were some nights so difficult that we both found ourselves in tears at 3 in the morning.

We still haven't cracked this sleep issue. In fact, your father is upstairs trying to get you to bed and I can hear you slowly singing through the baby monitor, fighting it. I spent the last 47 minutes trying to get you to sleep and now he's trying. You sleep through the night every once in awhile, maybe once or twice a month, just to show us you can. Usually though you take a while to fall asleep (like tonight) and you wake up twice a night. I know there are babies out there who do much worse so I try not to complain, but those rare nights when go from 7pm to 7am show us just what we're missing. It is amazing what your body can get used to though, and waking up every 3 or 4 hours is no longer as painful as it used to be. Plus, I kind of miss you when you sleep the whole night through*.

Eating with you is so much fun now. Gone are the days when I would watch you eat with my heart in my throat seeing you gag and sputtle while you tried to understand the art of chewing. You do still occasionally gag, but it is less and less common, allowing me to relax and just enjoy you enjoying your food. Finger foods go down best with you as you like to be in control. Usually your meal is made up of whatever your father and I had for dinner the night before. Steak and potatoes. Salmon and green beans. Chicken and cous cous.

You drink from your sippy cup like an old pro now. To go from the days where I had to spoon feed you mush and hold your cup to your lips just to watch you spit out the water, to now. Now where you sit with an entire grown up meal and pick and choose what you want to eat, throwing what you don't like on the floor (thanks for that) and taking sips of water inbetween bites of food.

There are times when I become nostalgic for the little baby you once were, the scent of milk, the baby sighs as you sleep, the fragility and utter dependence on me. But then I see you butt scooching out of the room, turning to see if I've noticed that you're trying to escape and grinning hysterically and wildly flapping your arms when I come to scoop you up again. Or looking out the window and upon seeing your father in the garden, pointing and saying Da. Or deciding that you're thirsty, looking at me and making the sign for milk. And I think, holy crap, watching you grow into this world is so exhilarating and humbling. You won't let me be a witness to who you are becoming at such close range forever so I better stop looking backwards and start making sure I'm watching you plan your escape.

Je T'aime

Maman

Eloise is a hair above Mickey now but is clearly unhappy with her new commanding role.

There there Mickey, the title is still yours...

...FOR NOW!!! (I'm scared)

*Don't worry kid, I'll get over it, you sleep all you want at night. Please?

To night wean or not to night wean

Every night I go through this battle in my head. Eloise has good nights, where she only wakes up once to feed, but those are few and far between. More often than not she has bad nights where she wakes up 4 times. Though I know she doesn't need to eat, in my sleep deprived state I go to the easiest in the short term solution and plonk my boob into her crying mouth so we can all get to sleep again NOW.

While I'm feeding her in her darkened nursery the same argument runs through my mind. She's not even 9 months yet, and a couple experts say that sleeping through the night is a milestone to reach just like sitting up or crawling. Plenty of other books say that by 6 months your baby does not need to feed at night and should be sleeping through. I go back and forth. I know I am creating a habit for her, that she is nursing for comfort and doesn't need the breastmilk (at least not 4 times a night!), but at the same time do I want to put us through a week of sleep training hell if she's just going to get there on her own at some point? And especially as she isn't getting any milk while at nursery I can easily guilt trip myself into feeding her more than she requires.

And if we do decide to night wean, how much crying are we willing to subject our child to?

This would be a lot easier if we were trying for a second child. Then the decision would be made for me - if I want another child, I would HAVE to get Eloise off of the night feeding. (Breastfeeding - especially at night - is a very potent natural form of contraception). I could use the promise of a sibling for Eloise as motivation to handle the sleepless nights. But so far we're holding off on baby number 2.

It's quite impressive how mother nature makes sure that you are sleeping through the night before having another child. Makes perfect sense to me. What I need to know though is whether mother nature is waiting for your baby to get to the point where they no longer need their mom and her milk jugs to sleep or is mother nature waiting for you to prove you are a good enough parent by getting your child the much needed undisturbed night's rest before she grants you a second kid to fuck up love.

Feel free to add your opinion to the mix that is my muddled Mama brain.

Lesson learned. Baby 1 Mom 0

While I was pregnant I had it in my head that I would breastfeed until 6 months as recommended and then put my baby onto formula for the next 6 months until she could drink cow's milk at age 1. It's no secret that my life before motherhood was a rather boozy one and I figured that after the 15 or so months of near total sobriety Mama could use a night out on the tiles.

Of course getting drunk now is a whole different ball game. Not only would I have to contend with baby care on top of hangover, but I am such a lightweight these days it is not even funny. Except that it is funny. Because half a pint of beer and I am GONE. I mean like flashing my lopsided milk jugs for free shots GONE.

But my whole plan of putting my baby on formula after 6 months of exclusive breastfeeding didn't factor in the fact that my baby would have her own opinion on the matter.

After the disastorous Paris trip where Eloise went 20 hours sans eating we had a few more attempts at getting her to take the bottle. Not even formula perse, just my milk but in a bottle. She refused. I decided my last attempt would be her nursery. Totally different evironment, no trace of me, and in the hands of child care experts. After 4 days of them trying to get her on the bottle with no success I finally decided to give up. I mean if they can't do it, it just ain't going to happen.

Your boobs are MINE MilkLady.

So there it is. No big boozy night in my future. My boobs are still being held ransom by a tiny being that is growing remarkably sharp teeth as we speak. A very opinionated being who knows what she likes and won't settle for anything less. And as much as I would love to share a bottle of wine or 5 with friends I am quite proud of my little girl for sticking to her guns.

A long winded simile for weaning

I tell you, this whole feeding your offspring thing is a tricky business. It's like every day you make someone a heartfelt homemade card telling them how much you love them and care about them. Some days the person is like, awww, for realz? This is for me? You are the kindest person ever! And you know what, I wasn't sure I was, you know, there yet in this relationship, but if I'm honest, I love you too. Deeply Truly.

And so you feel wonderful - having your beautiful handmade card received so well, to have your feelings reciprocated. And then the next day? When you give them another handmade card declaring your love? They look at it and say, um yeah, not trying to be awkward or anything, cause it looks like you went to a lot of trouble and all, but this is just too much, and uh, not in a good way, ya know?. So I'm just going to go ahead and give this card back to you and we'll just pretend this little encounter never even happened ok?

Eat ma damn food bebe!

Septieme mois avec Mademoiselle Eloise

Eloise –

Do you know that there is not a day that goes by that I do not pause and look at your face and wonder what I did to deserve such a beautiful, funny, and curious daughter? I will admit that those first few weeks of motherhood were difficult. I struggled. Not with the loving you part – loving you came at me so hard and fast that it physically hurt. But I struggled with the drastic change in my life. Struggled with being responsible every second of every minute of every hour for a tiny beautiful being that at first could only poop and cry and suckle the life force out of me. I took advantage of your long naps to go get my haircut or get a massage or get a beer. It was all so overwhelming and I needed a break. Not a break from you, but a break from becoming your mother.

When I would finally get you to sleep around midnight I would feel euphoric at having a few adult hours to myself before you woke up again. My how things have changed since then. Now when I put you to bed it seems too soon to say goodnight. Too soon to end our day full of messy meals, and reading stories, and dancing in your bedroom and building forts.

I miss you when you sleep. I miss you even more when you’re at nursery. You are by far my most favorite person to spend time with in the whole world.

You were a little sick a few weeks ago with what we thought was the chicken pox. To play it safe we stayed home from all of our usual groups and classes so as not to infect any of your little colleagues. Normally a week without adult company save for your father at night would have driven me crazy, but you’re now at an age where you are all the company I need.

We’re becoming more adventurous with food – you heart bagels a whole lot – especially if I splash out on some cream cheese. You make the most adorable grunting sound while mashing the bagel in your mouth, like you’re annoyed that you don’t have the proper tools to get this unbelievable deliciousness in your belly faster. Yeah, still no teeth. But seeing how hard you can gum my nipple when you’re distracted while feeding I’m quite happy for those teeth to stay where they are a while longer.

Speaking of annoyed, even your new friends at nursery noticed how frustrated you get at being a baby. From about the age of 3 months your father and I picked up on how you would seem to get angry at the limitations of your little baby body and the staff at your nursery mentioned the same thing to me when I picked you up the other day. “It’s like she wishes she could do a lot more than she’s physically capable of”.

I know you’re frustrated, but don’t be in such a hurry to grow up. I’d miss you too much.

Je t’aime

Maman

Still under Mickey's thumb...

...but we're ready to take him down.

Adventures in Weaning

My original weaning plan was to go to France with Eloise, enjoy some time off from being at my kid's beck and call while her extended family got to know her better, come back home in January, read a few books on introducing solids to babies, buy some weaning gear and slowly incorporate eating proper food into our routine.

Instead Eloise started waking up during the night. A LOT. And in my sleep deprived state I quickly buckled under various friends and family members suggestions that perhaps giving her solid foods would help her sleep better. After two weeks of severely disrupted sleep I think I would have taken their advice had they told me that teaching my baby how to flap her arms and fly would make her sleep better.

I waited until the Frenchman joined us in France, discussed it with him, and we decided to start feeding her. I told my mother and sister to come over to the Frenchman's parents house so we could all watch Eloise take her first few bites of food. My mother laughed sarcastically " Yeah, that'll work". Turns out I was extremely difficult when it came to accepting solids for the first time and my mother was expecting a similar battle.

Instead Eloise sat there with all of us staring at her as I spoon fed her carrot with a look on her face like, what? Eating from a spoon is a big deal? I got this down you guys.

And to be honest with you, although a big part of me was really proud of my little girl. Proud that she could accept something so novel in her stride. I was also a little sad. Sad that it was so easy for her to accept nutrients from a source other than me.

There are many things I love about my daughter. One of my favorites is her breath. I cuddle her face next to mine, kissing those chubby cheeks and drink in the scent coming from her parted lips. A mixture of milk and innocence.

I want Eloise to be an adventurous eater. I enjoy feeding her and cooking for her. But my milk on her breath will soon be replaced with the smell of swede and papaya. And I guess I'm a little sad to see that trace of me go.