Two kids and one thousand nine hundred eighty six days

I've been waiting to write this post for a while now.  Let me start off by saying that if you're freaked out or offended by the idea of breastfeeding beyond infancy, then you should leave.  Please don't read this.  Please don't comment.  Please don't even discuss it with me, because I'll bury you in facts, anecdotes, experiences, and a wave of other women, children, and men who agree with me. 

I've been waiting to write this post, because I've been trying to get Raina to stop nursing that one time a day, right at bedtime, for all of 2-10 seconds per side, for a couple of months now.  I've been ready to wean this child since she was about two and a half, if not before. 

Ethan weaned, fairly easily at about 2.5 years.  It was simple really.  I applied my knowledge of behavioral change, and he went along with it.  For the weeks leading up to the last time, I took to only nursing him in one spot, on our old couch.  I knew that we'd be getting a "new" couch handed down to us soon, and I started telling him that when our "nursing couch" left, we weren't going to nurse anymore.  I reminded him each time we cuddled up, and worked towards distracting him with chocolate milk to decrease how often or how long we'd nurse.  Ethan has always been a little snuggler.  His daycare teachers used to tell me, even as an infant, how he'd just wrap himself around anybody that was holding him, and everybody loved to hold Ethan because of this.  He asked off and on to nurse after we stopped, but never really made a big deal out of it.  By the time his sister was born 10 months later (yeah, no rest for the weary momma body here!) he still seemed to remember nursing, but wasn't bold enough to try any funny business with me.

Raina is an entirely different creature than Ethan.  She latched on within minutes of birth, and nursed voraciously day and night.  With Ethan I struggled with latching for the first few days, pain, cracked nipples, positioning that didn't break my arm, neck and back, and the dreaded mastitis.  I even ended up flat on my back for two weeks when he was five months old because of debilitating neck pain caused by supporting him, and sleeping in weird positions to accommodate him next to me in bed.  With Raina, I hardly saw a nurse at the hospital.  They were so impressed with my breastfeeding skills, they left me alone, even encouraged me to side-lie with the baby in the bed so I could get some rest while she nursed.  This was in stark contrast to my first night with Ethan (at the same hospital) where I was scolded for falling asleep sitting up with MY child in MY arms. 

Being more relaxed with my second baby has nurtured a staunchly independent personalty in my little girl.  She never had any problem hanging out in her bouncy seat, watching people go by.  She sang to herself when she was sleepy, and would often fall asleep on her own, no pacifiers or boobies required.  This is why I was surprised when, at two years old, she was still nursing around the clock. And, at two and a half, the time my clingy, lovey-dovey little boy had finally kicked the habit. 

Raina will be three next month.  I've been determined to get her stop nursing for months now.  It started several months ago, maybe before Christmas, when I cut off the night nursing.  This led to about two to three weeks of angry, pissed off, screaming till she passed out again, Raina...in the middle of the night....several times a night.  We were all pretty grumpy for a while.  If losing sleep wasn't bad enough, she also throws some punching and kicking into the mix for added fun. 

Honestly, the time line is a little fuzzy.  Years of sleep deprivation will do that to you.

For about two months now, maybe longer, we've been down to nursing once a day.  I almost immediately tell her that this is painful to me.  It is, her latch has gotten lazy, and I get hurt.  She stops, switches sides, tells me how yummy it is, then nurses for about 2 seconds on the other side, often stopping on her own before I even have to preempt her.  For the last three nights, we've had conversations about how she's a big girl, and not a baby, and doesn't need to nurse anymore.  So, after she's through insisting that she IS a baby, pouts a little, kicks a couple of times, she goes off in search of an apple, or some carrots, and falls asleep gripping her snack.  Oh yeah, she eats when she's sleepy.  Go figure.

So, one thousand nine hundred eighty six days.  Give or take a few.  That's how long I've nursed my two babies.  My two loving, sweet little children.  I wouldn't give up a single day of it, but am also happy to have my body back to myself.