Towards Weaning

One Family's Journey By Beth Kaufman Kramer

Maisie is almost 18 months old and we are still nursing twice a day-first thing in the morning and right before bed. Most nights, she nurses to sleep in my arms and then my husband puts her down in her crib. This is our family ritual.

Many of my friends and family members can't believe that we are still nursing, and often share their "concern" and comments: "Continuing to nurse will make her less independent." "She'll never learn how to fall asleep by herself." "Isn't she getting too old for that?" "I doubt you're making much milk anymore. Why are you still nursing?"

About a month ago, perhaps spurred by these types of comments, I began toying with the idea of weaning. Maisie's current nursing behavior also made me consider weaning more seriously. Unlike other children her age that are still nursing, Maisie does not "ask" to nurse. She never lifts up my shirt or points to my breast, nor does she ask for nursing by a special name. When I offer the breast, however, she eagerly takes it.

Based on this "not-asking" behavior, I thought that perhaps Maisie was giving me a message that she was ready to wean. I began thinking that the "weaning window" had presented itself, and that we had better seize the opportunity---especially before she developed any of the above habits related to toddler nursing that I've heard are difficult to break.

I discussed my weaning thoughts with another mom who is nursing a toddler, and she lent me "HOW WEANING HAPPENS" (LaLeche League International, 2000), which is an excellent resource. After finishing the book, I began preparing for and experimenting with weaning: not offering the breast in the morning, getting support from my husband, and other helpful beginning strategies that the book discusses.

Despite these careful preparations, significant ambivalence dwelled in my gut and heart as we began the weaning process. Instead of our usual morning nursing session, my husband would get Maisie from her crib and give her breakfast. Though Maisie seemed fine with this new routine, I felt a sadness and heaviness inside. I feared letting go of our unique bond. I told myself, however, to stop being selfish and put Maisie's growing independence ahead of my own nostalgia for her babyhood. She showed no outward attachment to extended nursing, so I told myself that I must seize this opportunity to wean.

In the middle of my weaning experiment, however, a major incident occurred. During a recent family trip, I tripped and injured both of my legs. Because I am currently saddled with a knee immobilizer, ankle splint, and crutches, I am unable to do most basic childcare tasks for Maisie. This unfortunate situation, however, yielded an important "aha moment" about weaning. Like the famous proverb says, when one door closes, another one opens.

For the first three days after the accident, we stayed at my mother-in-law's house and let her take care of us. While I was grateful for all the help, I was heartbroken that I couldn't do much for Maisie. I couldn't carry her across the room to change her diaper, chase her around the house, get down and play with her, or go to the kitchen and prepare her meals. Everyone else was whisking her away to take care of her.

When I cried to my husband Brad about not being able to care for Maisie, he responded with the most wonderful and wise words. "Beth," he said, "you can still nurse her. No one else can do that for Maisie but you." So, the morning after my accident, I put my weaning plans aside and resumed our morning and evening nursings. Maisie seemed happy about this and eagerly nursed when I offered.

In the midst of all the confusion related to my mishap--and all the helpers coming in and out of our house--I am so grateful that I still have nursing as a way to connect with Maisie. Our continued nursing has allowed me to show Maisie (and myself!) that nothing has changed. Mommy is OK and can still take care of her. Every time I offer her the breast, she takes it and seems very content. I think she is equally grateful for this source of comfort during such an unusual and challenging time in our family.

In terms of my weaning plans, I have reconsidered my original strategy and am now taking things one day at a time. Though it seemed like the right time to wean from an intellectual perspective, I felt ambivalent and unsettled about the decision. From this point forward, my new strategy is to let things play out naturally. We will wean when/if Maisie clearly shows that she is no longer interested in nursing, or when I feel more ready to end this important chapter in our relationship.

If nothing else, this experience has taught me to do a better job of listening to my "gut." I will not push myself to do something that a family member, friend or parenting author recommends just because s/he says "it's the right time." In my opinion, there are no absolutes-or absolute right answers--about raising children.

Listening to your internal voice seems to be a lifelong challenge of parenting. There will always be someone who is ready to tell you what to do, but as mothers we must listen to our own guts and hearts. In addition, we must listen to both the overt and subtle cues given by our children-even though they can often be difficult to decipher! In my opinion, these are the most important guideposts to follow when any parenting issue arises.