In which I take the risk and use this space to vent about something that has been bothering me too much that I have to stand on top of the Singapore flyer and shout so that everybody will listen; as if telling the same story to my mom 10 times a day is not enough.
Okay, you men who are reading this, you shall leave now. Either hit the back button to return to where you came from or skip to the previous post and celebrate my 100th post after helping yourself with a drink. And you girls who are not mothers, you shall go too if you do not know me personally or if you do not care. Now, you mothers who love to read mommy blogs, come closer. I’ll tell you a secret.
I’ve been struggling hard with the weaning process. As much proud that I was and I still am about breastfeeding, weaning has become my biggest thing these days. I had planned to wean him when he becomes 18 months old, even though I actually wanted to nurse until 2 years. At 2 years, I understood that weaning would become difficult and I thought I was smart enough to have planned so well to wean him at 18 months. I thought it was going to be easy-peezy.
When he reached 15 months, I decided that it was time to start the process. I had finally out grown the initial guilt of not having enough milk when Pappu was born and also Pappu had started following a good diet. I was happy about my change of mind and announced to the world that I would wean him soon and I even bought some normal clothes (I was on the boring, no-style nursing clothes till then)in celebration of my decision. I thought babies wean themselves unless we desperately what them to keep nursing!
I do not know what kind of energy my behavior passed on to Pappu, but he suddenly started becoming more demanding of breastfeeding. I can’t even use the word ‘breast milk’ here because he shouldn’t be getting enough milk to fill his appetite. He was just suckling for the sake of fun, or comfort. Actually he nurses himself to sleep. I was the culprit, for I always opened up for him to nurse whenever he felt sleepy so that I wouldn’t have to carry him and walk until he falls asleep on my shoulder.
The next couple of days was tiring for me. I would carry him, walk and sing to him for more than an hour, twice everyday to put him to bed. Other than sleeping time, whenever he demanded nursing, I would shortly tell him that big boys drink from a cup and that he was a great big boy now, and I would do something fun with him. My strategy worked very well. He stopped demanding and I would let him nurse only once during the day that is before going to bed at night. I was happy at that advancement but I had also started missing the nursing days especially at the end of the day when my breasts were heavy and painful!
Not that it happened for so long. Within 3 days of that schedule, Pappu got a fever and my mommy-guilt raised as much as the temperature did. Without much thoughts, I put him on fully breastfed diet even though he was taking a good enough diet even then. I jumped into action and happily let him nurse for the whole week that he was down, fully expecting him to stop nursing by himself when his temperature was normal again. It was only after that I realized what I had done. He turned into a nurse-aholic* and got addicted to my breasts. All he wanted to do was to nurse and nothing else.
I’m still working hard on it and I have to say that it’s much much harder than how we had progressed before the fever.
*This word may not be found in dictionary