Free! FREE! FREEEEEE!!!!!!!!

Weston is weaned! The child is weaned!!! Bwah-hahahaha!!! I’M FREEEEEE!!!!! (Cue scene from Home Alone where Kevin screams with joy and goes nuts and runs all around the house.)

So, we’ve been in the weaning process for about a month now. First we downgraded to four nursings a day, and then a little while ago, we downgraded again to two nursings a day (morning and night). The other night when I went out, Tim gave Weston a bottle and put him to bed, and I pumped so that the ol’ funbags wouldn’t get too sore. And guess what… it was only like two ounces of milk!! Haha! (Sorry, kiddo. Maybe that’s why you always seemed to get hungry again so quickly.) After that realization, I decided to make the weaning final, and just switch entirely to formula.

It’s been a mini-emotional roller coaster for me with weaning. It’s equally delightful and traumatizing to watch Weston get older. Delightful because he’s learning and moving and communicating more each day, but traumatizing because he’s becoming less and less dependent on me and more and more interested in his environment and other people. (My mother-in-law once pointed out that the irony of childrearing is that your real goal is to get them to be fully independent and leave you.) Nursing will always have a special place in my heart because it gave us a quiet, loving opportunity to bond and be close (multiple times a day, to boot). I also really enjoyed the idea of being able to follow through with my pregnancy even after he was born by continuing to nourish him. So, it’s been a little bit of an emotional battle for me: the freedom and convenience of the bottle versus the bonding and the health benefits of the breast.

Not that it mattered, though, because I have never known such bottle drama as I have with Weston. (I’ve also never been a mom before, so, who knows.) He took bottles occasionally in the beginning, then didn’t, then did, then did NOT, then DEFINITELY DID NOT, then sort of did, and then, finally, did. I think it was the combination of a few things that finally got it to work: a warm bottle, a fast-flow nipple, and an eventual penchant for experimentation, brought on by the introduction of the highchair and new flavors and textures of solid food. One time several weeks ago, I had to go out without Weston, so I pumped a bottle and left Tim with my well wishes and a sympathetic look for his upcoming misery. When I got home, I learned that Weston took the bottle, without any freaking out, wailing, or mental/emotional breakdowns (on either of their parts). Apparently, Tim had put him in the highchair, stuck the bottle in his mouth, and waited. And Weston drank. Aaaaaahhhhhh, thank you, Bottle God. Sigh of relief.

Since then, he’s been fine with bottles, even when we switched from pumped breastmilk to formula. Maybe consistency was the answer, because we certainly weren’t consistent before when I was taking care of him all the time anyway, and could much more easily nurse him than go through the bottle drama for the simple sake of being consistent with a bottle. The mini-emotional roller coaster aside, I couldn’t be happier right now. I am very, very excited that Weston is now able to be cared for by anyone… Tim, family members, babysitters, homeless dude wandering in front of our house, etc. The feeling of loss that he doesn’t need me for nourishment anymore is passing, and it’s being replaced by a feeling of JOYFUL, BLISSFUL, HEAVENLY FREEDOM. Especially since we’re going to Disney World with Tim’s family over the Christmas holiday, and Weston won’t have to be attached at the hip to me!! (Love you, Weston. Really.)

Anyway, here are the immediate results of The Weaning a couple of days ago:

(1) I thanked my nursing bras for their exemplary service and said goodbye for now, and then I pulled out my happy, comfy, non-nursing bras, gave them a hug, and welcomed them back.

(2) I drank Diet Coke without the guilt of caffeinating my child (instead of drinking Diet Coke with the guilt of caffeinating my child, haha).

(3) I decided to set up an appointment with my stylist friend for a haircut. A HAIRCUT!!! I’m goin’ nuts here.

(4) I went to Costco and bought the ginormous two-pack of Kirkland formula. (Three to four bottles a day for the next three months?? I’m gonna need a lot more than that, too.)

(5) I came to terms, for now, that my baby is growing up and needs me a little less each day. There will continue to be mini-emotional roller coasters about this, all throughout his life I’m sure, but for now, I’m hugging him and cuddling him and cherishing all those nursings and loving that he’s growing up. :-)