The Decision to Wean

I’m in the process of weaning my son, and it’s not an easy thing, both physically and emotionally. I’ll be attending the Romance Writers of America national conference in three weeks, and since the baby will be at Grandma’s for an entire week without me, I don’t really have a choice. He’s nearly 8 months old, so I think it’s time.

But oh, it’s hard. Definitely harder on me than it is on him. Personally, I don’t think he’ll care much–as long as he has his bottle and snuggle time, he’s good. Really, what it comes down to, is losing that last physical connection with your baby. You spend nine months growing them, and then when you nurse them, it’s an extension of that. They’re still a part of you. Whenever my baby has been crying, is inconsolable, and all seems lost, I could simply nurse him, and all was well again. It was my no-fail cure-all for fussiness.

Weaning them means cutting those ties, and I’ll admit that this past weekend, I was a complete wuss. I used formula when I could, but if he honestly was upset, I nursed him. I’m taking my time with this process, slowly giving up the feedings. The last one is always the hardest.

In the meantime, I’m hoping that things won’t be too bad on the physical side. Last time, I used cabbage leaves to offset the pain, and it really did help–kind of like ice packs. Maybe if I go slowly enough, I won’t run into that? I’m hoping.

Why do I feel like, if I blink, he’ll be going off to college?