Impending Independence

Toby is now officially 14 months old.  As each day passes  . . . a single life changing event looms ever closer.

Weaning.

I had the luxury of allowing Ethan to self-wean without pressure and continue to have that same luxury with Toby.  Ethan was one week shy of 18 months when he officially self weaned.  Admittedly he had been tapering off for a while but I wasn't ready.  Oh, you read that correctly.

If you are a breastfeeding momma, maybe you already know.  If not, then you are rolling your eyes and mouthing the words as I say trite things like, "It is the one thing I can do that no one else can!"  Ah, but here is the catch.  It is true.  Every chin quivering, teary eyed thing that a mom who doesn't partake in the "wean race" says is TRUE.  I should be fair though, there are many reasons to force wean.  And I mean no judgment.  But this blog is about my life so there ya go.

Ethan Wee chowing down

I am fearful of my reaction to be honest.  While Ethan was, and still is, a very affectionate child, Toby is not.  Not at all.  Ethan will cuddle until the proverbial cows came home but Toby's cuddle button can only be accessed once he has a fever of 102+.  Toby might hang out with me on the couch but he won't cuddle. 

When I nurse Toby he curls around my body and tucks one arm in tight against my chest, his other hand finds my shirt or bra strap and fiddles with it or he pets my side.  He suckles lightly for a few minutes before he gets let down and then I feel his soft breath puff against my breast as gulps my breast milk.  Soft noises echo up to me.  There is a closeness there that I don't get from any other interaction with him.  When he is tired and wants to nurse he holds his wee arms out for ME.  Because only I can provide that for him.  It is self-defining in a very stark way.  In a "I've lost my pre-mom identity but THIS makes me special" way.  With Ethan I knew very well that we would try for another baby.  But Toby is it. 

I had such a hard beginning with breastfeeding Toby.  Major latch issues led to horror show nipples and many shed tears.  But, like a lot of challenges in life, I'm too stubborn to give up when I should.  I persevered and now look at us.  I knew going into it with Toby that it would get easier.  But when they are nursing 8 times or more a day each session can feel like an eternity . . . a torture session that lasts an eternity.  So why do we still do it?  Because now it is EASY and it is a joy.  One of life's true rewards for enduring pain (beyond that of childbirth) is experiencing breastfeeding an older baby.  

But, even with all that "at the edge of a cliff" scary emotions and co-dependency issues (oh I know, I'm not naive) there is a freedom looming as well.  Unlike my life with Ethan at that age, I am now in a place where I have friends and there are real amenities (like, from a real city, ya'll.)  The nearest good restaurant isn't an hour away, it is right down the street.  I have friends that actually INVITE me to things and mostly I try to go to them. 

Right now I am only available after 7pm.  Because that is Toby's bed time, and he nurses before he goes to bed.  In fact, he still nurses 4-6 times a day.  Despite his independence, he still NEEDS me for this.  In fact, in the time I've sat down to write this I've nursed him twice.  Once to go to bed and one more time when he woke up an hour and a half later.  In essence, nursing him is my fall back response to him being upset.  While Matt has had to develop soothing skills for both boys, I got the easy card.  I just nurse them.  It was hard for me to soothe Ethan at first after he weaned.  Luckily, he has never been one to seek out soothing objects other than his parent's affection.  So fairly quickly my rocking, back rubbing and singing did the trick. 

Toby definitely seeks outside comforting influences.  He is a binky baby and has his "lovey."  A stuffed alpaca pelt bunny that he just can't sleep without (note to self: buy a back up!)  He wants you to put him in his crib and walk away.  He cries when I sing and writhes when I try to rock him.  I admit that without the ability to nurse him I wonder how I will soothe him?

My questions will be answered in time.  Worrying does nothing but waste energy but my mind will continue to worry about weaning, my identity and my ability to soothe. 

But this time, when my role and identity as a "nursing momma" disappears I will already have the groundwork for aspects of my identity that will see me through the rest of my life.  Friendships and activities that are for me only.  Jen.  Not just "Ethan & Toby's Momma."  Knitting with the ladies (and not being late,) actually going to a writing workshop (since I joined and have never been able to attend the 6:30 meetings,) meeting a girlfriend for dinner, or having a DATE NIGHT for that matter! 

See Jen?  So much good.  Even with the death of a huge part of my life, a part that I will treasure forever, there is a phoenix rising from those ashes.  But for now, I still have time with my precious Toby.  Still . . . time.