Weaned.

Tyler is weaned.  Much to his extreme frustration and disappointment and my heartbreak.

We were down to only nursing in the mornings right after waking up anyway.  Our long weekend out of our normal routine presented an unexpected opportunity to wean Tyler the rest of the way.  Between being gone one of the mornings and Tyler’s crazy waking up at the wrong times on the other mornings, we didn’t nurse like we normally do.   Tyler was up before me, hanging with his Meme and Papaw and having breakfast before I got up.  Then when I got up and tried to nurse, Tyler was kind of over it for the day and wouldn’t nurse.

So, Sunday while driving back to Indiana, after having not nursed or pumped that morning, I contemplated and churned and deliberated whether I was going to just consider our nursing relationship as concluded.  Cold turkey.  

With Lily, I knew about a month in advance exactly when I was going to be nursing her for the last time.  I had it all planned out because it was in preparation for a trip I was going to take.  I didn’t want to have to drag my pump with me.  Plus I was pregnant with Tyler and I was tired and Lily was 13.5 months old and it was just time.

Weaning Lily wasn’t too tough.  I nursed her for the last time on a Friday morning.  On the weekends, we had a routine of bringing her into bed with us in the mornings and I nursed her there.  The first Saturday where we didn’t nurse, we mistakenly followed our normal routine of bringing Lily in to bed with us but just offered her a sippy cup of milk instead of the boob.  When I didn’t nurse her, she got really, really upset (which made me really upset).  But I stuck to the plan and sent Joel and Lily to the kitchen so she could be distracted with breakfast and I joined them a little bit later.  Lily was fine.  On Sunday, Joel took her straight to the kitchen upon getting her up and she didn’t “ask” to nurse at all.  That was the end of it.  For her.

For me, weaning her was very physically painful.  At 30 hours post last nursing session (LNS), I was in pain.  PAIN.  My boobs ached.  Oh how they ached.  It hurt to wear clothes.  It hurt to have anyone touch me at all.  Misery. By 36 hours post LNS, I was bawling, I hurt so bad.  I was cursing every nursing mother I could think of for not telling me how much weaning hurt.  I sent Joel out for cabbage and constantly rotated cabbage leaves in my sports bra.  It was really, really awful (and smelly).

At 48 hours post LNS, I was pretty sure my boobs were going to explode right off my chest.  I expressed a little milk just to make sure my nipples didn’t go flying off my body and take someone’s eye out.  I was beginning to think there was no way I was going to be able to go to work the next day.  No way.  And then, probably about 55 hours post LNS, the pain started to ease up.  And it continued to ease up and by Monday morning, 72 hours post LNS, I was completely better.  No pain.  No discomfort.  I don’t even remember any leaking.  Weaning complete.

I’m telling you all this because this misery played a pretty significant role in my decision whether to stop nursing Tyler this past weekend or not.  I didn’t want to be going through all that pain, discomfort and misery while at work (since I wouldn’t have started the weaning at the beginning of the weekend like I did last time).

But Sunday night, at 36 hours post LNS, I wasn’t uncomfortable at all.  I felt fine.  I made the decision that night before bed that I was done.  Tyler and I were done with this part of our relationship. Monday morning, I woke up and cried.  Not because I was hurting because, amazingly, I wasn’t hurting one bit.  But because I was so sad.  I was a little heartbroken that I wasn’t nursing any more.  Joel said, “So, don’t stop.”  Like, duh Kelly, it’s that simple.

This is my last baby (that’s a sensitive topic for another day).  This is it.  It’s hard to let go.

However, I felt like I had made the decision, I wasn’t hurting physically, Tyler is more than 14 months old, it’s time.  I will just go through this same set of emotions the next time quitting comes up.  It won’t be easier one, two or six months down the line, so get on with it.  Plus, not knowing days, weeks, months in advance when the last day was going to be, might be for the better.

I stuck to my guns and I didn’t nurse Tyler on Monday morning.

And he’s been a terror ever since.

Mornings are awful.  He screams at me.  He won’t lie still so I can change his diaper.  He throws things.  He pulls on my shirt.  Wednesday, after I got him dressed, he crawled over the rocker and turned to look at me with these big, expectant eyes like “Come on, Mama.  This is what we do next.”  I almost fell apart.  Yesterday morning he screamed and screamed and played “stiff as a board” when I tried to put him in his car seat.  Ever tried putting a screaming, stiff baby into a car seat?  That could be one of the challenges on a game show like American Gladiators or something.  

Anyway, I don’t know if Tyler’s really missing nursing or if there are other things going on and it’s just a coincidence?  Either way, it’s hard for me to take.  That broken heart I have is getting stomped on and kicked around a little.

And, on top of that, I started getting some discomfort in my girls a couple days ago.  NOTHING like what I went through with Lily, but still no picnic.  And I’m a little leaky which is annoying.  I think I’m going to start taking some antihistamines to see if that helps dry me up.  So, I’ll be a zombie until that regimen is over!