Sunday, July 7, 2013

End of the boob road for Quinn

While the experts say "breast is best" for baby, there's still lots of women who choose not to go down that road. The ability to leave baby with whomever and whenever, not having to deal with breast issues like cracked nipples and sagging, are among the oft-cited reasons. I chose to breast feed all of my babies for the simple fact that is was cheaper. Way cheaper than formula. And until Quinn, there weren't many difficulties associated with breast feeding. All took to it with minimal problems, and aside from a few infections and episodes of plugged ducts, it went well for the most part. In hindsight, I often wonder if nursing Devlin longer than six months would have side-stepped the peanut allergy issue he has. But alas, I was returning to work early (being on contract at that time), and hadn't turned my mind to nursing him when I returned from work.
Devlin took to the bottle without a problem, but it took some time before we found the right formula for him since we discovered after many bouts of projectile vomiting that he was lactose intolerant. Ceilidh and Aisling were also great at nursing, and both provided no obstacles when it was time to wean.
Then came Quinn.
My baby, my last baby, He loved to nurse. When it was time for a feed, he'd kick his legs enthusiastically and smack his lips. Even after solids were introduced, he still loved to nurse. At that "magic" 11 month mark, when it's easiest to wean a baby, Quinn got sick. As did Mommy. Weaning seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. So we nursed. He took juice and water from a sippy cup, but absolutely refused to swallow milk that didn't come from Mommy. I returned to work, and came home with aching breasts, and was greeted with open arms by Quinn who was eager for his feed. This continued for a few weeks until I convinced him to wait until bed time. And for awhile, he'd been nursing at bedtime, first thing in the morning and all through the night.
After one night of hourly feeds throughout the night, I started to research how to night wean while co-sleeping. Tried a few tips, and our sleeps got better. Quinn was learning to sleep and only wake once or not at all. I also realized that if I woke up before him and snuck down to exercise, he'd manage without a morning session of boob juice just fine.
All the articles I read on weaning a toddler suggested talking to Quinn about the end of the boob road, and substituting lots of cuddles instead. Or waiting until the child was ready himself. Neither was going to work for me. When I talked to Quinn about "growing up and being a big boy" he looked at me askance, and insisted on a feed instead. He would spit out his soother, climb into my lap and cough "ah ah"  -  his signal that he was ready for his evening ritual. Child led weaning, in my opinion, is one of those mother/parenthood myths, like a baby that sleeps through the night at 6 weeks or a child that toilet trained over the course of a weekend.
The doctor stated there was no way to wean at this late stage with me around. She suggested I take a trip away. So I planned a girls' weekend in Vegas, but due to scheduling conflicts the trip won't be until November. I despaired at nursing until then. I did have a work related excursion at the end of summer, but I also felt bad about leaving Daddy with a still nursing child. And truth be told, I was reluctant to end the nursing. Quinn is my last baby, and this will be the last baby I get to cuddle and nurse. I did enjoy those moments we were connected and the gentle snores that came when he fell asleep on the breast. The talking we did with our eyes as we started at each other while he drank. I loved how his fingers would get tangled up in the bra straps while I stroked his feet.
Until this week. I got sick. One of summer illnesses that suck all the energy out of you and leaves you listless and wanting to sleep. I was also worn out. From a few weeks of frenetic activity. There were birthday party preparations for Devlin and then executing the party, cleaning and clearing up my desk at work in preparation for week off, the said week off that was spent in Minnesota helping my very pregnant sister perpare to move back to Canada, and then returning home and back to busy work schedule. On top of the illness, I ended up cracked and bleeding nipples. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. The pain of that negated any of the special "bonding" I derived from our daily boob sessions with Quinn.
I spent a fortune on fun looking sippy cups, and made up a cocktail of formula and milk. I thrust the bottles and Quinn at this dad and went to hide in a separate room. It's been three days now, and fingers crossed, knock on wood, but the weaning is going well! He's gone to sleep for Daddy, and only woken up once each night. This morning, he even came to me for a cuddle. I was braced for Quinn to start looking for a sip from from the boob fountain as he usually does during the early morning cuddles, but he was content to stick his fingers up my nose and giggle. I miss sleeping next to him, but until I'm sure he's done with the boob, I have to stay away. So, I steal some cuddles while he sleeps and quietly grieve the end of the boob road.