When I imagined the process of Ri getting weaned, I imagined RD and I taking a break away from her for maybe two or three nights while she learnt to cope with the loss of nursing. Everyone around me including my ped said she would forget by the time I returned.
So I would associate Langkawi and Bali every time I thought about weaning her. I imagined sitting by the pool, tears glistening behind my sunglasses.....
Well, here I am, in good old hometown. Its been three days since I've nursed her and I think the nursing phase of my life may be officially over. No Bali. No Langkawi. It just happened like that. A couple of days back, my sister who is here on a break from the United States kept encouraging me to stop whenever Ri demanded my milk. And, I did, just like that.
After all, this was a long time coming. I had wanted to feed her till she was two. And well, the birthday had come and gone. It was time to let go.
I did not wean her in the most organic way in the book. I told her a a creature called 'Magai' had taken away my milk and would get angry if she continued to feed. And, she believed me, almost sneeringly. Ri thinks monsters are funny people.
It's been three days and she's fine. We spend a lot of time hugging and kissing and cuddling. I hold her close to reassure her that I am still there. She still gets my warmth and gets to sleep at my chest. Just no milk.
I feel unexplainably low. A lot of thoughts plague my mind. I don't remember the last time I fed her. Should I have recorded it in some way? ( I know that sounds creepy but figuratively speaking). Should I have made an occasion out of it. Should I have held her close and sung her a song. Was I lying lazily on the bed reading a paperback romance as she fed or was I watching an episode of 'Parenthood'.
I don't remember.
I've never spoken openly about nursing her for two years. There were days when I enjoyed it. Days when I was tired of it. Days when I would have been tired without it. Days when I felt a bit ashamed about the fact that I was still feeding a toddler. Days when I attributed her 'genius' to my breast milk.
I nursed her through fevers and bed-falls, tantrums and tummy-aches, after ear-piercings and
head-shavings, through marathon road trips and aeroplane take-offs and landings. When she hated travel-food, I nursed her till reprieve. I must thank the breast-milk gods. If I could go back in time, I would do it all over again.
So why did I choose to feed her this long? A lot had to do with how easy it is to take care of a child who nurses apart from all the 'love' and 'security' stuff. I think most of it had to do with the fact that RD wants only one child and I felt that I wanted to continue this beautiful natural process as long as I could, for this might be my only sweet baby. Well, take a dad who wants one baby and a mom who really does not know what she wants but feels no internal or external pressure to have a second one as yet = our happy family with our darling Ri.
I feel strangely low right now. A mommy-friend said it is like 'an end of an era' thing and it is natural to mourn. Maybe it's the dip in prolactin. Maybe it's acknowledging that our babies grow up. You never know how much something means to you and how much you take it for granted till you have to give it up.
So I am doing some self-torturing right now. You know, like when you break up with someone and lie in bed thinking of all the wonderful moments you spent with them. I remember the first moment Ri was handed to me and how she took to my breast. I remember falling in love with her, over and over again as she fed, me stroking her hair and feeling her soft skin. I remember millions of episodes of Desperate Housewives, Criminal Minds, Greys Anatomy, 90210 and Gossip Girl that I watched while I fed her. I was never nursery-rocking-chair feeding mom!
I have read a lot of articles on how you should nurse till mom and baby mutually agree to quit. For the last three days, Ri still asks for milk but I manage to distract her. I still feel like giving in sometimes and 'experiencing' it one last time. So, I don't know if both of us are ready yet. I don't know if I stopped nursing for her, for me, for those around me. I don't know if I stopped so that she could spend more time getting to know me, than focusing on feeding. I guess I'll never know.
So here's to a new chapter for Ri and me. Wish me luck.
So I would associate Langkawi and Bali every time I thought about weaning her. I imagined sitting by the pool, tears glistening behind my sunglasses.....
Well, here I am, in good old hometown. Its been three days since I've nursed her and I think the nursing phase of my life may be officially over. No Bali. No Langkawi. It just happened like that. A couple of days back, my sister who is here on a break from the United States kept encouraging me to stop whenever Ri demanded my milk. And, I did, just like that.
After all, this was a long time coming. I had wanted to feed her till she was two. And well, the birthday had come and gone. It was time to let go.
I did not wean her in the most organic way in the book. I told her a a creature called 'Magai' had taken away my milk and would get angry if she continued to feed. And, she believed me, almost sneeringly. Ri thinks monsters are funny people.
It's been three days and she's fine. We spend a lot of time hugging and kissing and cuddling. I hold her close to reassure her that I am still there. She still gets my warmth and gets to sleep at my chest. Just no milk.
I feel unexplainably low. A lot of thoughts plague my mind. I don't remember the last time I fed her. Should I have recorded it in some way? ( I know that sounds creepy but figuratively speaking). Should I have made an occasion out of it. Should I have held her close and sung her a song. Was I lying lazily on the bed reading a paperback romance as she fed or was I watching an episode of 'Parenthood'.
I don't remember.
I've never spoken openly about nursing her for two years. There were days when I enjoyed it. Days when I was tired of it. Days when I would have been tired without it. Days when I felt a bit ashamed about the fact that I was still feeding a toddler. Days when I attributed her 'genius' to my breast milk.
I nursed her through fevers and bed-falls, tantrums and tummy-aches, after ear-piercings and
head-shavings, through marathon road trips and aeroplane take-offs and landings. When she hated travel-food, I nursed her till reprieve. I must thank the breast-milk gods. If I could go back in time, I would do it all over again.
So why did I choose to feed her this long? A lot had to do with how easy it is to take care of a child who nurses apart from all the 'love' and 'security' stuff. I think most of it had to do with the fact that RD wants only one child and I felt that I wanted to continue this beautiful natural process as long as I could, for this might be my only sweet baby. Well, take a dad who wants one baby and a mom who really does not know what she wants but feels no internal or external pressure to have a second one as yet = our happy family with our darling Ri.
I feel strangely low right now. A mommy-friend said it is like 'an end of an era' thing and it is natural to mourn. Maybe it's the dip in prolactin. Maybe it's acknowledging that our babies grow up. You never know how much something means to you and how much you take it for granted till you have to give it up.
So I am doing some self-torturing right now. You know, like when you break up with someone and lie in bed thinking of all the wonderful moments you spent with them. I remember the first moment Ri was handed to me and how she took to my breast. I remember falling in love with her, over and over again as she fed, me stroking her hair and feeling her soft skin. I remember millions of episodes of Desperate Housewives, Criminal Minds, Greys Anatomy, 90210 and Gossip Girl that I watched while I fed her. I was never nursery-rocking-chair feeding mom!
I have read a lot of articles on how you should nurse till mom and baby mutually agree to quit. For the last three days, Ri still asks for milk but I manage to distract her. I still feel like giving in sometimes and 'experiencing' it one last time. So, I don't know if both of us are ready yet. I don't know if I stopped nursing for her, for me, for those around me. I don't know if I stopped so that she could spend more time getting to know me, than focusing on feeding. I guess I'll never know.
So here's to a new chapter for Ri and me. Wish me luck.
I know exactly what you mean. Of all the scenarios I imagined about weaning, I never thought my daughter would leave the source of her life just like that. Dramatic, I know. There were days when I moaned when will she wean and when she did I frequently longed to nurse just one last time. But that is life I guess. :)
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