Recently I successfully weaned my 13 month old, Isla, but let me tell you, it wasn't easy. First of all, that girl was addicted to the chooch. She loved it breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus any time she was feeling down. With new teeth coming in and winter sniffles, December was not the easiest time to deny her. It took me a good month to get her off of the breast and onto whole cow's milk. It looks weird as I write that, and maybe it is, to raise our children on the milk from a cow, but they need something, that's for sure. Unfortunately, Isla had a hard time with the whole milk and had many a mushy poo. Using cloth diapers at this time was a drag. Well, we took her off whole milk (bummer for me, that stuff is like cream in your cereal) and started with a little bit of lactose free milk., Still yuck, so we bought her some almond milk and mixed it with the Lactaid. It took a couple of weeks, but things are looking much more solid down there. Thank god, because her poor little bum was turning a bit raw.
The actual weaning was tricky. As a babe who loved some nursing right before bed and nap time, trying to substitute a bottle for a boob was not working for Isla. My husband had to feed her before bed while I was out of her sight, and it usually took a couple 4 ounce bottles and some serious rocking. If she got up in the middle of the night, screaming, Pat would have to rock, rock, rock her back to sleep in front of the wood stove. I have to admit, I kind of dug this since I spent almost a whole year waking up to nurse that girl once or twice a night. No offense, Patrick, you are awesome for doing it (and still doing it, since Isla's a light sleeper like me). The naps are starting to get better for me with her during the day. We have a little routine, lunch, try to get outside or if it's too cold, some high action playing indoors, and then about an hour after that–when I see her rub her eyes–the almond/Lactaid combo and it's so long, sucker. Also, any time she gets fussy and starts hitting my chest as if that will bring back the milk, I go for good old distraction. Look at a book, play with some blocks, and at last resort I'll give her my phone. Sometimes it has to be done.
It's really starting to work. She hasn't nursed in about a week, and although she will try to rip off my shirt sometimes after her night tubby while also yanking at my hair in frustration, she's getting the hang of life without the chooch.
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How absolutely tieirfyrng! Your post made me cry, get angry and feel relief all at the same time. I am outraged, on your behalf, at all of the formula pushing you had to endure. I hope you find some comfort in knowing that your milk is what is making your child grow and keeping her safe. The idea that top-ups are needed or that you need to pump to know how much milk you are producing is against the very basic principles of breastfeeding. If you really did need to top-up (for medical reasons) then why don’t they suggest you feed her some expressed milk instead. It’s ridiculous how formula is the 1st solution people think of, as if it’s some kind of miracle stuff. Which it isn’t. Keep strong and follow your instincst. I hope you find peace with what happened that night.Nadia recently posted..
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thanks for share!
Feeding your baby… everyone tnihks they could do it better and feels free to tell you how. Grr. My son was 12 weeks premature and had GERD and a cleft lip and palate, so we experienced many of the same feeding troubles. I pumped and bottle fed a VERY slow eater for as long as I could take it, but once I got to spending eight hours a day on things food related, I gave it up for formula. Yes, I know breast milk is best, but the important thing is that my son got the nutrients he needed. We can’t all do things the way other people did them. My son ended up needing a permanent feeding tube, which he finally had removed earlier this year at the age of 5. The good news, Rebecca, is that you start to forget the early struggles — and the frustating unsolicited advice. Best of luck to you and your daughter!
Chooch! OMG! I love that. Has she forgotten completely by now?
Chooch, the word’s been in my family forever. And yes, she has completely forgotten although once in a while she does throw a forlorn look towards my chest.
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