Surviving: Weaning My 18 Month Old

Before I ever became pregnant, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. I didn’t know how long or what it would be like, but I knew in my soul it would be a part of my motherhood journey. When I got pregnant with Cam, I anticipated breastfeeding him by blissfully and ignorantly planning on just “doing it”. I didn’t do a ton of research, I didn’t join any Facebook groups (besides the due date group I was already in).. I just knew that I was going to try. When people would ask how long I planned on nursing, my response was pretty scripted: “My short term goal is 3 months, my long term goal is 1 year, but I’m not going to put too much pressure on myself. We’ll just see how it goes.” But, if I’m being completely honest with myself, I’m not sure that if we had had any trouble breastfeeding if I truly wouldn’t have put “too much pressure” on myself. As much as I wanted to go with the flow and just see how things went, I knew I was willing to do whatever was absolutely necessary to make it work. There were so many things that I anticipated loving about breastfeeding: the bond, the financial gain of not having to buy formula, the fact that I would get to single handedly nourish my baby.. it felt really big and like something I really really wanted to succeed at. Of course once our journey actually started, there were so many things I had NOT anticipated: the nipple soreness, the heaviness that I sometimes carried BECAUSE I was single handedly nourishing my baby, feeling touched out, feeling inadequate that my baby didn’t sleep longer than 2 hours at a time at night.. it surely wasn’t easy. The wonderful parts were there though, and it 100% became easier over time.

Before I knew it, we had soared through our 1 year goal and made it well into our second year of breastfeeding without a true end in site. Cam loved to nurse, albeit he was only nursing before sleep, but I started to feel like MY journey was coming to an end. They say that breastfeeding must be a true balance of harmony between mother AND baby and if one is not as committed as the other, it may be time to move on to the next chapter of your relationship. Knowing that and truly feeling like that was more than acceptable, I felt comfortable deciding on ending our journey by the end of the year. I wasn’t sure how it would go, but I knew I wasn’t going to go into 2020 still breastfeeding my first born. While I was truly content with that decision, I had many many moments of doubt and many moments of sadness. The only relationship I had ever known with my son, included breastfeeding and I had a lot of trouble imagining our daily routines without it.

While I knew I needed to come up with a game plan, I was (for a lack of better words) slapped in the face with a reality stick when Zach and I met with our reproductive endocrinologist to discuss planning for baby number 2. For those who are new here, I have PCOS and do not ovulate on my own. It took us three rounds of Clomid + Ovidrel to conceive Camden and because of that, we decided to plan ahead for when we were ready to start trying to baby #2. I wish it hadn’t (I know it shouldn’t have) but it caught me by surprise when our R.E. officially said I would have to stop breastfeeding to even BEGIN to repeat the preliminary testing before starting meds again. It felt like a mountain. A mountain I would have to climb in order to get to another baby. And for some reason it felt even heavier than being told, “you’ll never conceive without help” while trying for Cam. I left that appointment feeling heavy and sad. I’d always hoped Cam would self wean.. but now it was pretty clear I’d have to make the decision for us. And even though part of me was ready, it still weighed on me. I prayed every single night, asking God to guide me through the process. Begging him to give me strength. For those reading this that have never breastfed, or maybe didn’t feel like breastfeeding was right for them I KNOW this sounds dramatic. It probably is. But I’m just being raw here.

Weeks passed, and I justified continuing to nurse Cam for many reasons. One of the biggest (and I honestly feel like this was a God thing), was our upcoming flight to New Jersey to meet our new nephew. I knew take off and landing might be rough on Cams little ears and thought that nursing him might make the flight smoother, for all of us. Boy was I right. Our sweet angel nursed himself to sleep on the way there AND the way back and it was glorious and so worth it. Three days after getting home, (without my knowledge) on Thursday September 19th, before bedtime, I nursed my sweet, sweet baby boy for the last time. The following morning, I woke up with a gnarly nasal abscess, causing half of my face to swell and was on my way to being really, really sick. Cam ended up spending the weekend at my mother in laws (she’s a saint), while my mom nursed me back to some level of health while administering IV antibiotics to me at home. Because I was so sick and had an IV, everyone was putting Cam to sleep but me. The first day home with him by myself, it dawned on me that he hadn’t nursed before sleep for 4 days. I took a moment to myself and ultimately made the decision to acknowledge God answering my prayers. He was guiding me through the weaning process by taking it out of my hands and I couldn’t have been more grateful. I didn’t have to cry through one last nursing session. I didn’t have to dread bedtime because it would be the “last time.” Our last nursing session came and went without me knowing.. and honestly, I’m grateful for it. It’s exactly how it was meant to be.

If you’re still reading, bless you. I know that was long. Our routine looks almost identical to as is was, except for I no longer sit in our rocker with Cam before laying him down. Zach has taken over almost all of the night time sleeps, but on my off days (and football game nights) naps and bedtime still fall on me. Now I’m not one to back down from a challenge, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t lose it (ok I still tear up) the first couple times I’ve laid Cam down without nursing him. I’ve started singing him the bedtime songs of my childhood and just laying him down after my silent prayers for him and he’s done amazingly. He goes down without a peep. Yes, I’m crying as I’m writing this, but I’m just so proud. And so grateful. Man, hormones are crazy. Our journey was a special one and I’ll never, ever forget everything I learned from nourishing and comforting my child for 18 months. Thanks for being here and for reading. Here’s the last photo I have of me nursing my big baby on the plane, headed home from New Jersey. XO – JT