Weekly Changes

A few weeks ago I poured my frustrations into this blog about weaning. This week I am happy to announce we are officially, 100% weaned! While this is one of those "breathe-a-sigh-of-relief" accomplishments, I must admit it comes with a tad of remorse. Like every little milestone Brody meets, I yearned and pined over meeting this one, and yet when it was finally achieved my heart hung heavy for a moment as I realized this meant he was that much less of a baby, and that much more of a big boy.

Most of you know I have a history of lower back problems. I have diligently been working on strengthening my core this year in an effort to minimize the chances of an “episode.” Unfortunately I fear lately I was a bit over zealous and managed to overdo it. Needless to say, I strained my lower back and ended up in another one of those all too familiar incapacitated states. After three days of trying to ignore it and hoping it would heal on its own, I finally broke down and went to the ER. I was in SO. MUCH. PAIN. While I am still ironing out the style and degree of my efforts to remedy this cycle, in the meantime I was prescribed a fabulous cocktail of painkillers, and restricted to no lifting objects above ten pounds for two weeks. Brody weighs 27 lbs.

So with this diagnosis, Beau and both Grandmas stepped up to help out. I was confined to a reclined position most of last week, and honestly, bored. The meds made me sleepy and much of that week is a blur for me. However, because the Grandmas were in charge of Brody’s nap schedule, he learned how to nap without nursing! Although I technically was not supposed to lift him for another week, I was feeling so much better from all the rest and came back to caring for him full-time again last week. So now my little big boy is no longer nursing to nap, and I am a happy sad mama thoroughly amazed at how quickly things change for a rapidly developing toddler.

The best part of this stage in Brody’s life is watching his emerging personality. His latest obsessions leave us giggling at how silly and nonsensicle they are. For example, Brody is completely enamored with chairs. It’s a hilarious sight to witness the moment his eyes land on a chair and his tunnel vision ensues. Upon discovery, he immediately moves in his regular drunken-sailor stammer to the chair and begins the redundant (but somehow entertaining) process of pushing the chair over, then picking it back up, then pushing it over, then picking it back up…etc. Occasionally after the chair has hit the ground, he likes to climb onto the back of the chair and bounce up and down while squealing at his success.

Another odd obsession Brody has taken a liking to is clothes. In particular, Beau’s shirts. He absolutely loves to take Dada’s shirt from the hamper and walk around shaking it up and down while singing in delight. I can’t quite wrap my brain around this obsession of his. The chairs I get: he likes the sound of the chairs hitting the ground; the pride that comes with knocking over such a big object; he finds contentment in the routine of the process. But the clothes? I just don’t get it. Nonetheless, it’s absolutely adorable and somehow keeps him entertained for a ridiculously long time.

Now, Beau and I are NOT two people who ever outwardly seek the opportunity to dance. Ever. Neither are we the type of people to randomly dance around the house, not together, not alone. It’s just not us. But within the last three weeks, Brody has started dancing on his own and it is beyond delightful. I am completely amazed by the fact that this is something that was seemingly organic in its discovery and fruition. One day, with music on in the background, I noticed Brody stop what he was doing, and start bending his chubby little legs and bouncing to the rhythm of the song. What cracks Beau and I up is his taste in music. He won’t stop and dance to just anything, but if certain songs come on, he can’t help himself! His latest favorites are “California Girls” by Katy Perry, and “Not Afraid” by Eminem.

Brody is not yet speaking coherently but his babbling is insurmountable. He understands most of what we say to him, but we have yet to get him to speak back. Most people tell us not to stress about this and to in fact enjoy it because once he starts talking, we will miss the days when he didn’t talk. We are excited to hear him voice his feelings simply because it’s another way for us to get to know him better. Unfortunately I think his best known word from us is “no.” Anytime he starts doing something he knows he’s not supposed to do (i.e. pushing buttons on the television, playing with the computer, etc.), just as quickly as he starts the forbidden task, he also starts to shake his head “no.” It’s wonderfully cute, especially when I notice him doing it when he’s not aware I’m watching, but it also kind of makes me sad to think that he is so accustomed to hearing it from us. I initially didn’t want to teach him “no” and was going to seek out a detach and distract method of discipline, but unfortunately our son is the MOST tenacious, persistent little bugger. There is no doubt if there is something Brody wants, he will go to all lengths to get it.

With every little step away from babyhood and into toddlerville, my heart breaks and swells with pride all together. I am so excited to see the little man Brody is becoming and eager to learn more about him as his sweet little personality continues to emerge. However, as we part from all things baby, I can’t help but dwell on how quickly it all went by and I often start thinking about how easily remedied my yearning for more babyhood can be. In due time…

The Woes of Weaning

1. Big man working the vineyard. 2. Brody's goofy laugh 3. Watching the choo choo train.


1. Brody is obsessed with two things: running around naked, and pushing over chairs. 2. Beau styles Brody's hair. 3. A beautiful day hiking and beaching at Sleeping Bear Point.


1. No that's not the Caribbean in the background, that's Lake Michigan! 2. Beach baby 3. In the pool with cousins.

From garlic infused olive oil applied to your nipples, to going cold turkey, I’ve read and heard it all about how to wean my little one from breastfeeding. There are so many great ideas and suggestions out there, and they all claim to be THE solution, until I mention the fact that I am still breastfeeding strictly because Brody and I developed a very regretful habit (for me) of nursing to sleep. Once I mention that obstacle, most people reply with, “Oh…hmmm…yeah, that’s hard.” And the conversation ends there.

I have done hours of research on how to wean from nursing down, and it seems that there are very few solutions out there. Most people say to nurse until the baby’s drowsy, then put him in his crib while he’s still awake, and let him fall asleep on his own. This is seemingly simple and successful, and I get excited when I find other people have the same problem, but I don’t know if I’m being over zealous when I then subsequently type in my Google search field: “How to wean from nursing down without putting baby in crib when drowsy because the minute he hits the mattress he opens his eyes and screams bloody murder.” Results: 0.

From before the time I even thought of getting pregnant, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. It was always something that I believed in strongly, and I feel its primitive derivation is telling. As we humans evolve and modernize, it seems we (particularly Americans) are constantly looking for the fast, easy, convenient route. For me when it comes to health, growth, and life in general, that fast, easy and convenient route isn’t always conducive or practical. I will curb my desire to babble about all the natural refinements inherent in breastfeeding because most people already know and agree: Breast is Best.

When Brody was first born, along with the regular tsunami of change that comes from the birth of new life, I was surprised by just how overwhelmingly unnatural breastfeeding can actually feel. I expected it would just happen, like that, no problems. I suppose I assumed this because I was so wrapped up in the idea that it was natural, that I didn’t think there would be anything to it. Well, aside from the fact that a C-section throws everything off, there was nothing easy about it.

Because Brody was born hypoglycemic, he had to stay in the nursery for five days. He was born at 6:35am, and I was not able to hold him or see him until 7:45pm. Those were the worst, most torturous thirteen hours of my life. My maternal instinct was raging, screaming internally to get to that baby, and put him on the boob. But due to medical logistics (I was not allowed to leave my bed post-surgery for 12 hours, and Brody couldn’t leave the nursery as long as they had him on an IV drip), I couldn’t get to him. So my first day of breastfeeding was spent warming up and bonding skin-to-skin with a fancy Medela hospital-grade breast pump.

It took me almost three days before my milk actually came in so we had to supplement Brody’s feedings with formula. When I was finally able to fully breastfeed, I don’t think there is a way to explain the pain. The nurses kept saying, “it shouldn’t hurt,” but I kept telling myself it was just part of the process. After three weeks when the pain still hadn’t subsided, and in fact I had to stop breastfeeding and only pump-to-bottle feed because of just how bad the pain was, I called my lactation consultant. After a quick conversation and an in-home visit, we determined I had contracted nipple thrush (it’s okay to cringe).

This is surprisingly typical, especially if you or the baby had to take a course of antibiotics while breastfeeding which both Brody and I did. What was so bizarre and unexpected to me about it was, neither Brody nor I had any visual symptoms. Long story short, it took six months before it cleared up for me. This is extremely rare. Most people are able to clear it up after two weeks, but my case was defiant and persistent.

During those six months, I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to give up all together. I will be honest and hope not to offend anyone by saying this, but I was surprised during such a difficult time, just how quickly people suggested I just stop breastfeeding. I was sad by how little support I received by my immediate people, compared to the bombardment of support I received from women I spoke to in online forums, the ambassadors I spoke to from Le Leche League, and a select few random people.

Turns out, this is not at all uncommon. I have discovered that there are many women from this generation who have the same lack of support to not only start breastfeeding, but also sustain breastfeeding when it gets difficult. It is so unfortunate how turned off by nursing our nation is in general, but somehow, this propelled me and gave me a force of bravado to forge ahead and stick to it!

Fast forward to 11 months of nursing, and I was done. I wanted it to be over. It was ruling my life. Don’t get me wrong, I loved every single minute of it (even the painful ones). There is nothing in the world that can describe the closeness, the bonding, the attachment (from both baby and mama) that comes with breastfeeding. But, there comes a point when you just want your body back completely.

I always heard that the time to wean comes when one or both parties are ready to stop. I was so hoping Brody would be the first to announce his resignation, but unfortunately I think he would be happy if we never stopped. My goal from the beginning was to last 3 months. After 3 months that changed to 6 months. And then at 6 I thought, “ah well, might as well go to a year.” So when 11 months came around I decided it would be a good thing to start a slow and natural weaning process. Brody’s pediatrician guided me in how to start weaning him and all was going well, until we moved.

That changed everything. Brody went from sleeping through the night, to waking every third hour. From falling asleep on his own, to insisting I nurse and rock him to sleep. From cutting down to only 4 nursings a day, back to 6 and sometimes even up to 8 times a day. Moving from Chicago to TC was difficult for Brody and turned him into a raging Mama’s Boy. He wanted me, only me, all the time. Let me rephrase that. He wanted boob, only boob, all the time. So I started the process all over again.

At 13 months, we are still not officially weaned entirely. Somehow we developed the penitent habit of nursing to sleep. I will admit that it is one of the cutest, sweetest things to experience as a mother, but it certainly comes with a price.

It is with some relief that I am able to announce that Brody is not nursing to sleep at night, only for naps. Part of that accomplishment is due to the fact that I have Beau helping me put him to sleep, but during the day, it’s just me for naps. I stress about this constantly as I fantasize about a world where I am able to put Brody in his crib, tell him it’s “Nappy Time” and walk out of the room without being trailed by wailing and screaming. I am hopeful that he will just one day show no interest in nursing at naptime and we can move on from it, but I do fear it won’t happen until he has dropped napping entirely. Or worse, when I send him off to college.

So yes, I have indeed considered the garlic-infused olive oil idea. I have also considered going cold turkey but it’s that high pitched screaming that comes with that method that turns me off. And in the end, as bad as it is, I usually give into nursing him to nap simply because I know it works, and I want my break for the day. I am trying to relax and hope it all changes naturally, but in the meantime, I will keep my eye on the prices of garlic, and continue to rephrase my Google searches.