We blew out the candles

The time came to say farewell to the nursing relationship Jasper and I have shared for the past three years.  Three years, one month and three weeks to be exact.  It's been a long process, actually.  One that has spanned the past year or more.  Starting with tapering off night-time nursing (which actually only recently came to a full end) and then lessening the duration of day-time nursing by redirecting with snacks, and milk- or by weathering tantrums.  Just typing out those past few sentences, I feel like a complete liar because the words there sound easy and concise- which none of this weaning process has been. I've been struggling with this relationship for quite some time.  

Hormonally, the toll of breastfeeding has resulted in a wild ride not unlike that of puberty.  It's really too much to elaborate upon just now, but irregular cycles, hot flashes, night sweats, mood swings, new facial hair, and skin issues are just a few of the glamorous issues that I've experienced.  According to the research I've done online- it will take a bit of time for hormones to even out and for the liver to detox following pregnancy and breastfeeding.  I have been doing one or the other or both for over six years, and I've also heard tell that the come-down from regular releases of oxytocin could result in depression.  My intention is to be extra gentle on myself and my son and drink lots of water and exercise- something that I find very therapeutic. 

The other fact of the matter is that breastfeeding burns calories, and as we have been slowly tapering off nursing sessions over the past several months, I've already gained the upwards of 15 pounds.  The appetite that comes with nursing a baby and then a toddler hasn't seemed to turn itself off just yet. It is something that has not always been a joy for me to speak of, but I do fall prey to anxieties regarding my weight.  Having a healthy attitude towards my figure has been a challenge in the past but I do feel very committed to health and overall wellness. (This isn't a cry for any praise or flattery about my appearance-- I love myself and my body and only share this information out of solidarity for the anxious weight watcher/weaning mother.)

My approach to breastfeeding has been one that has been very in the moment- like most of my life choices tend to be.  I knew that it was best for my son's immune system and development to breast feed until he was 2, and I assumed he would just stop when he was ready- but then I became the one who was ready.  The last time I weaned a toddler, I was half-way through my second pregnancy- so weaning has been a much longer and different.  I was sad and weepy the first time around. This time, instead, I have been merely riding it out-- my tolerance for the relationship has come and gone, I would find myself not coping very well and then things evened back out and then one day- my son was three.  (THREE!)  It's not as if that is some legendary amount of time to nurse a babe- but I sure feel proud! Instead of feeling wistful for the end of the relationship- I am excited to move on to the next phase- I am ready to "miss" this time eventually.  I surely don't want to feel an ounce of regret but it does feel like what I regret most at this point is all the times I've felt so frustrated and blameful of the breastfeeding. It has seemed to create a bit of resentment from me that my child could not understand when I plead to skip at nursing session. In an effort to teach my child about awareness and honoring their own body- I felt slightly violated that my needs for personal space were not being met.

There are many things that I think go unsaid weaning.  It seems so straight forward.  You nurse the baby til x, and then you stop nursing the baby. But that x looks very different for everyone and the process of having a peaceful and loving break up with one's nursling is very much like ending any long term relationship. There are tears and and feelings and frustration and delay, and there is an ebb and flow of unbinding yourselves. Especially when that bond is one for life that instead of completely undoing, it must evolve. It's a complicated topic- and one that I have found difficult to relate with with others.  The nuances of the break up are at times very dark.  The best thing I heard was from my dear friend who said: there's no way around it- only through.  

On Sunday, we all woke in our family bed and when Jasper said, "the sun is shining it's time to nurse" (a way that we managed to get through months and months of failed attempts at night weaning) I offered that he could nurse for a short time on each side. When he was done I found myself saying, "Jasper! Do you know what today is?"  "It's your weaning party day."  We had not planned this, but had made references for many weeks that the day would come when we would have a little party and say good bye to nursing.  My husband took the cue and we impromptu managed to make a very store-bought-cupcakes, filet dinner, and champagne impromptu fm dinner party celebration.  We bought him a special toy and lit candles at dusk and explained that this was such a great day because it meant that he was moving on from breastfeeding- he was becoming a big kid (something that he has gone back and forth about proclaiming of himself.)  I did not cry or feel too sentimental.  Just proud of us, and that is how I mean to continue- when I feel the urge to lament the loss of our nursing relationship, I hope that I stop myself and remember: We did it, and  I don't want to take a single day back.

On Monday, we all woke up in our family bed and when Jasper said, "the sun is shining, it's time to nurse," I reminded him of his candles and his weaning party and he plead but didn't freak out- eventually, he moved on to making breakfast with his dad instead.  We that's what we keep going back to, the reminder of the weaning day.  It's been a helpful reference for me as well.  We blew out the candles.  Onward, with love and pride.