I'm the sort of person who makes big decisions based on my innermost feelings about a topic. I like to call it "moving with inspiration." This sort of living is not usually based on logic or rational thinking but rather, asking myself the question: "Am I being moved to do this now?" If the answer is no, I usually stay still, and wait. I've gotten better at waiting over the years, and trusting that process.

The last time I wrote about the weaning journey, four months ago, I was experimenting with a ritual to wean my two and a half year old gently. I tried it for a week or so and Liam indeed started nursing less.  However, it never sat entirely right with me because I did not like the thought that I was orchestrating the process in any way. Nursing is a relationship with so many benefits for my son, and one that I still loved, deep down. The reason I was considering weaning was not because I was positively attracted to it, but rather because I was trying to increase my fertility to avoid miscarrying again.

So, weaning felt like an increasingly necessary duty but one that brought me no joy. I was mourning for more than one reason; I actually sobbed multiple times at the thought of deliberately redirecting Liam away from nursing and at the realization that one day, as a result, he would forget how to do it.  And, knowing that particular form of bonding and emotional closeness would be over.

The idea of mother-encouraged weaning is foreign for me because so far, I’ve tried to let my parenting approach be child-led, meaning that I don’t actively guide him through milestones but rather, let him take the lead. I reached out on a gentle weaning Facebook group, asking for support. Was it supposed to be hard? Was I too attached? Or was I not ready? I texted with my best friends too, also nursing moms. They empathized with me and one suggested that I just take a break from thinking about this for awhile. No rush.

I allowed myself to heal, and nurse, and be fully present. Treasuring those breastfeeding moments early in the morning as we woke up, or in the bathtub floating together in warm water, or winding down before bed in the warm lamplight, listening to Putumayo lullabies in different languages. I read about weaning and talked to a midwife and to friends who had been through it. There seemed to be many schools of thought, no one good time or method, and I learned that many moms feel grief, guilt, relief, or any other complex mix of emotions during the process. And I heard that there is light at the end of the tunnel -- the special loving relationship with my child could and would continue, though the bonding would take different forms.

​My challenge was to conjure up a plan that felt good to me, was gentle and nurturing as possible, honored my son’s needs, and could be flexible.  And my first goal is to cut down from two daily sessions (morning and night) to just one in the morning. Here’s what I tried tonight:

• Finding a different wind-down location: I knew we couldn’t keep cuddling together on the futon, since that’s where he was accustomed to nursing before bed. After eating dinner together at the table, but while he was still in his high chair, I lowered the dining rooms lights and asked Liam if he would like some “special tea” -- a mix of warmed, frothy store-bought milk with maple syrup or honey and cinnamon. He agreed and though he didn’t end up drinking much of it (he preferred stirring it around and pretending it was eggs) I think he appreciated the effort. I’m hoping the ritual will stick or at least fill him up a bit.

 

• Playing different music: At the same time, I searched for a different, non-Putumayo lullaby online to break the association with nursing and found a sweet “Hush Little Baby” rendition that I played on repeat (other suggestions for beautiful lullaby music are welcome)!

 

• Tempting him with something just as exciting as “mama milkie:” It occurred to me to light a candle, which he found fascinating and wanted to blow out as quickly as possible. I told him that when he was ready to blow it out, then it would be time to go to bed with Daddy. And in fact, Daddy would carry it upstairs and only once his teeth were brushed and diaper and PJs on would he be allowed to blow it out. I also rubbed his feet and said prayers with him while the music was playing and he stirred his cup of “eggs.”

Overall, the plan went really well. He asked for “milkie” a few times and I had to swallow a lump in my throat as I talked positively through the new routine and asked to wait until morning. He didn’t protest too much and just tried some regular stalling before bed before we finally convinced him to come look at the candle in his dark bedroom with dad which looked just like a campfire. He went down easily for bed. And I came downstairs to capture these thoughts.

But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me. – Psalm 131:2

At my first “Morning for You” in September, I remember these moments:

• A homey space for gathering
• My co-hosts: artistic and creative women offering their craft
• The feel of delicate makeup brushes
• A yoga room filled with white light
• The empowering act of being photographed
• New friends leaving with relaxed smiles
• And above all, I’m grateful.

 
Thanks to money raised, we contributed $200 to Generation Hope though a special campaign that doubled our donation. Thank you to all!

Though new babies and moms tend to steal the show, dads and partners play an indispensable supporting role.  I found out just how wonderful my husband’s hands-on support was after the birth of our son earlier this year. It really does take (at least) two to raise a child. Here are some practical ways that husbands can help support their wives and babies after the birth.

1. Carry the heavy stuff: Moms are normally feeling weak and woozy after baby is born, whether they have had a vaginal birth or a C-section delivery.  Abs don’t quite work the way they used to, at least for awhile, and mom is not supposed to lift more​ than she absolutely needs to for the first few weeks. This means that dad needs to be on hand to maneuver the car seat, stroller, and grocery bags.
2. Make her breakfast: New moms are often ravenous, and need to eat even more high-quality calories than they consumed during pregnancy to restore their own nutrient levels and to also produce high-quality breast milk for baby. Give her a good start each morning by preparing a nutritious meal. One simple recipe high in B vitamins that my husband made for me could be prepared the night before - he added dried oats, water (just enough to cover the oats), butter, nuts, cinnamon and raisins to our rice cooker the night before. In the morning, he pressed “cook” and hot, nutritious oatmeal was ready in less than 10 minutes - he just added a bit of milk and honey on top. I lived for that oatmeal.
3. Feed the baby: Dads may not lactate, but they can certainly feed their newborns -- at least until mom makes an initial recovery. When we finally arrived home after a week in the hospital to treat my son's jaundice, I was beyond exhausted and emotional. My husband offered to do night feedings. During the day, after nursing sessions, I pumped my excess breast milk and stored it in the fridge.  At 9 p.m. I put in earplugs and passed out. My husband responded to my baby's regular cries, feeding him squirts of milk through a syringe each time that the baby sucked on his pinky finger, which simulated a nipple.  When he ran out of milk, usually around dawn, my husband passed baby over to me and I fed him for the rest of the morning. After each 6-hour chunk of sleep I got, I felt more 100% more human, more restored, and more grateful for my selfless spouse.
4. Take baby in the mornings: Moms will often rouse to feed baby at night during the first year or two - these frequent wake ups add up to a lot of sleep missed. One of the best things my husband does for me is to take the baby in the mornings to let me sleep an extra 30, 60, or 90 minutes. One of the best times was when we were staying in a hotel in Williamsburg for a weekend getaway and my baby decided to wake up, screaming, at 5 a.m. Though it was dark and cold outside, my husband bundled up himself and the baby and walked for miles around Colonial Williamsburg, letting me snooze until 7 a.m. It was an incredible gift.
5. “Do everything else:” This last tip sounds tough but I leave it with you as food for thought. New mothers need lots of support and rest to recover from birth, produce quality milk, and learn to breastfeed their babies. My husband really took to heart what a good friend advised him to do before my birth, “For as long as you can manage it, and for at least the first few weeks, Michelle’s only job should be to nurse the baby. You need to do everything else, from changing diapers to burping to chores to bringing the baby to her breast.”  

You know what? By following these tips, my husband was the star of the show (in my book). We’ll see if he’s up for an encore in a year or two.

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