Weaner

I am now an official weaner. Not the oscar meyer kind even though I acted like a weiner throughout the process. I know, I know, you've heard all about this before if know me well this post is going to BORE you to tears, but if you don't here is what happened.

First let me say that I never really bought into the whole "breastfeeding bonding" thing. My first two kids were bottle fed, I pumped my milk for one for her first year and my second child was a formula baby. I felt like I bonded with them while feeding them, I got to hold them and cuddle them but breastfeeding is a whole different experience. Clark was born a great nurser and I was thrilled! It's not like I didn't try with the first two, but it just didn't work out.

Breastfeeding is easy, convenient, and superior cuddle time. I loved how there was nothing between my baby and I when I fed him. I loved the smell of the milk, the feeling of being able to provide a basic need for my baby. I loved that he was getting antibodies from me, loved not having to make and clean bottles. I loved how it totally relaxed both of us, the time we got together. If I go on I will cry again so to summarize, love, loved those aspects of breastfeeding. But I did have my share of problems as well.

Clark and I both suffered from thrush for nearly the first 4 months of his life. Off and on. I had mastitis a number of times which more debilitating than I could have ever imagined. The let down on my left side was super slow and made so much less than the right so he would just scream every time on put him on the slow side until I gave up and just pumped the slow side to stay slightly even and in case of emergency. When his teeth came in he really tore me up, clogged ducts, then the biting came. I became an expert in treating and healing myself. Thanks to kellymom.com! Lifesaver.

6 months came around and thrush came back so I tried to wean then. It was way too hard, emotionally, and physically. I decided to try to nurse him until a year. Then 9 months came and he bit me. No biggie, I knew how to treat the wound and took it in stride, but then I got a clogged duct and decided to use a needle to unplug it. That was a bad idea. I thought I just popped a little white buildup of milk on my nipple but I must have pulled too hard on the skin bc the next couple of nursings were super painful I'm talking curling my toes every time. And I had been through some major painful wounds, for example the bite, but it was nothing like this. When  I looked down at Clark while he was nursing I saw blood pooling at the side of his mouth and it freaked me out. Sure enough the nipple had a hole in it and was pouring out blood every time the baby sucked. ): I tried nursing him on the slow side, you know the one I saved for emergencies like this (;, yeah he wouldn't even go there. I still tried to treat it and nurse him but it just got to be too painful and was not healing. I felt seriously like Heavenly Father had to make it impossible for me to nurse him in order to get me to stop. I don't know why because I can't see the future, but I felt like at 6 months He was kind of encouraging me to stop and now at 9 months I felt God's influence strong about it. Maybe it was to teach me that I could do something hard with his help, or maybe there would have been more problems in the future, it could have been a number of things, like I said I don't know the reason why but I felt strongly that I needed to stop (maybe bc I was really hurting myself as well).
 Duh, I know.

Sooooooo I did it. With some serious prayers and some encouraging words from my Mother to be consistent I closed the boobs down and offered the bottle. He wouldn't take it the first day, but did take a sippy cup of milk. This made me super sad, bc he wouldn't let me hold him while he drank it. So I don't think he understood that it was supposed to replace the nursings. The first night was terrible. He was so tired and starving and cried his little heart out when I wouldn't nurse him. It was like a nightmare. I was in tons of pain (which looking back was probably better so that I didn't give in). And he wasn't eating anything. I was so worried about him and so emotional and anxious about it all that I was in a state of shock, like the world was in a standstill. I was paralyzed by worry. I couldn't eat. I couldn't tend to the other kids, I couldn't clean the house up. I think for the first time in my life I felt really depressed. Then Sunday came and I came home from church early with the baby to put him down for a nap bc he had developed a bad cold through this process, (which doubled my terrible feelings of not being able to take care and comfort him by nursing). He fell asleep in his crib while I prepared his bottle and I took him out of the crib and shoved the bottle in his mouth, he pushed it away as usual at first but then gave in and has been taking it ever since. I can't even describe my feeling of relief, contentment, satisfaction I felt when he drank that bottle. And then I realized that a lot of the sadness that came from this process was from worry that he wasn't getting enough to eat, not just that he wasn't nursing. I admit I do miss the closeness that I felt when I nursed but I have to keep telling myself that this is for the best. I mean I'm still not completely healed from the needle wound.

Now I've got all the bottles out, the ugly diaper bag that holds bottles replaces the cute one I had. I'm pumping when I'd rather be doing other things like resting, And I don't  like it! I'm sad, sometimes I think maybe after I'm healed that I can just nurse him at night or naps, but I think he would prefer that and then I'd have to go through the weaning all over again. Blah. Being a Mommy is hard at times like these. Somehow I feel like Clark isn't as happy as he was, and I don't even know how much milk he eats, I'm still trying to figure that out.Thank goodness I have prayers and friends and family to help me through it. I'm still trying to get it together and I'm hoping things will be looking up soon.