Hi, friends. I have big news: the weaning battle is over. And the boobies are victorious!
I have been breastfeeding for almost 25 months but who’s counting? Certainly not the beneficiary of this wonderful thing called extended breastfeeding. Did I imagine him still wanting the breast at 25 months? Honestly, no. I assumed he’d shift his focus to food (he eats a lot), toy trains or books rather than boobs. An attempt to wean him off a few days before he turned 2 years old last October was unsuccessful. I turned ‘cold turkey’, very soft with tough love.
I stopped the whole weaning business and resigned to the fact that he might nurse until I turn him over to his kindergarten teacher. That. bad.
One day in November when I was contemplating on ways to wean him while daydreaming of long, restful night’s sleep, uninterrupted, and saying goodbye to nursing bras and breastfeeding covers, I got an invitation to travel to Turkey.
I wanted to wean to be able to take care of myself more and spend more time with my other child who feels left behind when I am pinned to the bed by the nursing toddler on my limited time home.
I knew it was the universe telling me to let go, giving me a chance to finally wean my (big, grown up) baby. We are talking about a ‘baby’ who is big enough to eat or drink by himself, put slippers on, operate an iPad like a boss and strong enough to lift my shirt off when he wants to!
Three days and three nights in far away Turkey…it sounded so exciting but at the same time, scary. When you’re a mom, you can’t really go away without leaving your heart home. It was a hard decision, but backed up by my husband (“you’ve done so much, it’s time you take a break”) and my son’s carer who helped Benjamin cope up with the sleepless nights looking for the human pacifier.
I flew to Istanbul but my mind and my heart was left in Dubai. Benjamin was holding it close – I have not slept well while I was there and constantly thought of him.
But the time I came back, he was running into my arms but for a change, did not yank my shirt, demanding to nurse. I felt so happy as well as emotional – this is it. We’re done! He walks across the room busy with a toy train or a book even if I’m there…it feels weird he’s not climbing up to me in the sofa to nurse, especially if I think that he is my last baby and I’m not going to breastfeed again.
But, I am finally free.
The night after I came back from Turkey, I had a full 8 hours of sleep last night. And why it’s worth a mention? Because this has not happened for more than 2 years!
I can’t believe this wonderful time has come for us. TWENTY FIVE MONTHS – I think that in this age, it’s a long time and I have done my service well. I loved breastfeeding, every moment of it – I love how he looks up at me, I love the warmth, the special mother and child bond so now he’s off it, I kind of miss breastfeeding more than I ever thought that I would.
But then, I am also very happy to have my body back to myself.