Soon after writing the post about big boy naps, Jonas didn’t ask for Mommy Milk one night at bed time. The next night he asked once but when I directed him back to the book we were reading, he forgot about it right away. He was telling me he was ready– that this was a small window in which we could wean somewhat easily. I struggled the next day, going back and forth, wondering if I should nurse him that night. Part of me wanted to have one more time, that I knew was the last time. Another part of me thought it would be too sad. When I had read blogs about other people weaning and they had a special last nursing session I always wondered how they could do that. I imagined myself sobbing.
When I was 13, my dad died. We knew it was coming soon, and I was at ballet class. My grandma came to get me, and by the time we got back to my house, he had passed away. My mom told me that he knew Sadie wanted to be there and I didn’t, so he picked a time when that could happen. Later she talked about how they asked the two of us if we wanted to be there– Sadie said yes, and I apparently said no. I have no memory of this conversation. I have so little memory of it, that I actually doubt whether I would have said a definitive no. Maybe I said it hastily, not really thinking about it. Maybe I thought, like I did about having a last nursing session and knowing it would be the last one, that it would be hard, so I said no and then blocked it from my mind. It haunts me a little bit sometimes. Did I really choose not to be there with my dad? Should I have thought about it more, if I did? How did it make him feel? I knew if I chose not to have a last nursing session with Jonas that I would regret it.
So that night at bed time, when he asked for Mommy Milk, I said ok. He giggled with delight and I fought back tears. I let him nurse as long as he wanted (which was a long time) and tried to be present with him for all of it. Sometimes, because my milk supply was down, he would say “That one not work anymore” and switch sides. I didn’t rush him and just enjoyed being with him and holding him.
I got what I needed and wanted from it. I wanted to know he was ready and he showed me. I wanted, deep down, to have a special memory of the last time we nursed. In a way, I think I needed it, to heal from the guilt of running from hard moments in the past. I got that too.
The next day, I wanted to do something to mark the transition, so we went to the mall and had a special big boy day. Jonas decided between noodles and burritos (he picked noodles) and then we went to the big boy toy store where only big kids go and get to make their own toys. Jonas made a puppy and named him Puppy. He drinks no Mommy Milk and he wears big boy underwear!
I wasn’t planning on starting to potty train Jonas any time soon and I definitely wasn’t planning on starting the same week he stopped nursing, but he woke up in the middle of the night and asked to use the potty and my friend told me she missed the window with her three year old where she was interested and it became a power struggle and I didn’t want to do that. We tried the three day method but it didn’t work with Jonas’s personality. He got annoyed with us asking him constantly if he was dry and reminding him to tell us if he had to go and he would ignore us and have accidents on purpose. Instead we just started putting him on the potty every once in a while and praising him a lot when he went and as soon as the pressure was off, he started doing better. He’s been doing great!
Now when he sees me changing or if he looks down my shirt, he will kind of giggle and say “You drink no more Mommy Milk anymore!” It’s a mix of pride, nostalgia, and disbelief and I feel the same way!