Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness

I know that’s the name of a Smashing Pumpkins album, but it seems like an appropriate title for this blog post all about my current state of mind. Besides, I wanted something a little more dramatic than a title like, “Weaning My Persistent Toddler.”

I have been breastfeeding Little King David for 1 year, 4 months, and 2 weeks. Our nursing relationship started off a little rough, but got better with time. I found breastfeeding to be a very painful experience for at least the first month. A visit to a lactation consultant confirmed that our latch was perfect. Her only advice was that fair-skinned folks sometimes have a tendency to be sensitive, which wasn’t encouraging, but we stuck it out. At two weeks postpartum, I had a nasty bout of mastitis that brought me to tears every time David ate. Ahhh, memories….

I went back to work when David was 6 weeks old and I pumped everyday until his first birthday. He started drinking whole milk at daycare and we were only nursing at bedtime and in the middle of the night. He still liked to nurse at naptime if Daddy wasn’t around to put him to bed. I enjoyed our cuddle time.

We considered weaning him months ago because he is a booby addict and becomes more and more persistent as he gets older. I knew it would be more difficult to wean a 2 year old than a 16-month old, so we decided to bite the bullet and go for it this week.

Daddy has taken over the bedtime rituals and the middle-of-the-night cuddle time. David hasn’t nursed in four days. He does occasionally ask for “Num Nums” and tries to rip my shirt off, but those episodes are becoming less and less frequent.

Despite our weaning success thus far, I feel incredibly and indescribably depressed. Our nursing sessions were our special cuddle time and I really miss cradling my big baby in my arms. I miss the way he loved to stroke my hair gently while he drifted off to sleep at night. I miss his soft face against my skin.

My baby is a big boy now.

Excuse me while I go wipe my tears…