Eliza is a Weanee...

... which makes me a weaner! It's been nearly 4 weeks since Eliza had her last drink from mom and all is well.

I have been intending to do a post on breastfeeding for a while, and now that I'm getting to it, it's old news! I wanted to hear everyone's thoughts or experiences regarding weaning and/or nursing during pregnancy, but, alas, it's too late. Bear with me (if you like, for some this will be TMI), as I record my nursing memoir.


First Glimpse
In the whirlwind of emotional devastation after delivering little Liliana, it never even crossed my mind that my body would continue according to its maternal design even though my arms were empty. A couple days after her delivery, in the midst of grieving and recovering from childbirth, I became terribly engorged. It was a bittersweet (not to mention painful) experience. I was moved by the natural processes of the body to nourish its offspring. How beautiful that my body was prepared to take care of this baby even though her mortal body no longer needed nourishment. On the other hand, the intense pain of engorgement and the leaking were constant physical reminders of my loss, as if I needed any reminders. Looking back, it would have been easy to hate my body for mocking my loss and causing me to endure even more physical and emotional pain. Thankfully, I was blessed with wisdom beyond my own, which allowed me to see the beauty in God's design.

Surprises
When I was pregnant with Eliza, I planned to breastfeed exclusively. I figured it would be pretty simple, and even thought it was funny that the hospital held breastfeeding classes (though I still attended one). After all, untrained women in all parts of the world have breastfed for thousands of years. I figured it would take some getting used to, but nothing really prepared me for how painful nursing was going to be. The lactation specialist watched me and Eliza in hopes of preventing the pain, but found that the baby's latch was good and everything was being done properly. She said that fair-skinned women often experience more sensitivity and that in time it would get easier.

I spent the first weeks bawling through nearly every feeding. My poor husband wanted so desperately to help, but there wasn't anything he could do. I just cried. I couldn't fathom how some women claimed to love nursing. It seemed so masochistic to willingly endure such pain.

Another aspect of nursing that took me by surprise was the time involved. I even dedicated a blog post to the topic. Nursing was a full-time job!

Loving it
As time went on, the pain went away (or I got stronger) and I began to see the beauty of nursing. I loved being able to feed my baby wherever, whenever. I fed on demand and was happy to do so. I loved having all the answers (well, the one answer: milk). I felt so empowered. I loved the special bonding and cuddling time that nursing allowed. I could finally see how some women just love nursing.

Mike would often marvel at Eliza's growth and that it had all come just from momma's milk. Eliza was over 20 pounds before she ever had anything besides my milk (she started solids around 6 months). We were both in awe that she was just "made of milk" and of milk that I made! Mike has always been so supportive of my decision to breastfeed. Even though producing milk isn't a unique characteristic or ability, I always felt like Mike thought I was the most amazing person on earth because I nourished our daughter.

I got pregnant with our little boy when Eliza was 9 months old. I had planned to nurse Eliza for at least a year, and then let her decide when she was done. I did lots of research about nursing during pregnancy and found that as long as the mother is getting enough nutrients, it is perfectly safe and healthy for both babies. While this meant a very tiring first trimester (after burning all your calories feeding babies, there isn't much energy left for anything else), I thought it was worth it. In my research, I also found that for siblings close in age, it is better psychologically for the older child to chose to wean rather than be forced to wean. This prevents some of the jealousy that comes when a new baby quickly takes the place of the older child. Also, in the back of my mind, I wondered if nursing a newborn would be easier if I was still nursing an older child. I was willing to nurse Eliza for 17+ months if there was even a chance that the pain of nursing the new baby would be a little less excruciating.

Breaking Up
When Eliza was 11 months old, I stopped getting up in the night to feed her and she started sleeping through the night (yes, we should have done that one a long time ago). In my second trimester, my once plentiful milk supply began to diminish. Eliza is such a hungry girl that she started to get frustrated with not getting all she wanted. I started only nursing her before naps and bedtime. Then, I cut out bedtime and just nursed at nap time. That was hard on both of us. We would go through our normal bedtime routine, except I would leave the room near the end and Mike would lay her down. For the first few nights, Mike told me how she would go to the chair where I would nurse her, bang on the chair, sign milk, call my name, and cry. It broke my heart. Thankfully, it only lasted a few days. Several weeks after that, I stopped nursing her altogether. Because the weaning process was spread out over so much time and because the pregnancy reduced my milk supply, I never went through any engorgement or discomfort physically. I do miss feeding her since that was the only time she would be still enough to cuddle with me. It will be interesting to see what she does when she sees me nursing a new baby.