I must have amazing knockers.
I mean, I really must. A midwife did remark once that I have lovely breasts for nursing a baby and they have served me and my growing babies well but why oh why must it be so impossible to wean?
You would think, and I certainly hoped, that by my third child, I would have some small clue as to how to bring the breastfeeding gig to a peaceful end. But I didn’t know then and I don’t know now.
Luca breastfed for 17 months.
Ziggy breastfed for 19 months.
Harlow is still breastfeeding at 15 months….and she shows NO signs of stopping.
In fact, Harlow is breastfeeding ALL NIGHT LONG. Every night, she wakes for boob. Most nights, I bring her in with me after that first wake up because I know that if I put her back in the cot, I will only have to get up again when she wakes an hour or so later.
The current arrangement is supposed to be the best way for me to get maximum sleep. But I am still exhausted, my back is ruined from trying to accommodate a restless 1-year-old in my bed, and the tipping point, Bren has now moved out of our bed and in with Ziggy to prevent him from getting up during the night and hopping into bed with me as well. I would invariably end up squished between the baby and the three-year-old since they both prefer to be velcroed to me at all times. Bren was often left clinging to the edge of the bed (queen-sized) but at least he was left alone.
They say that a situation is only a problem if it’s a problem for you.
It’s a problem for me.
Harlow is my last baby. In some ways, it would be nice to let the breastfeeding come to a close when she is ready…..so long as she is ready in the next two months. In fact, she could feed even longer than that if it was just once or twice a day, maybe first thing in the morning, but this overnight feeding is breaking me. She is teething at the moment so is extra clingy. I don’t want to get to the point I did with Zig where I resented breastfeeding and felt like it would never end. But we are drawing ever closer to that point.
If you are wondering why I don’t just do whatever worked the two times previous, it’s because I can’t fucking remember. Well, that’s not true. I remember that we swapped Luca to a bottle of cow’s milk overnight and that worked. I remember Ziggy wouldn’t take a bottle so I fretted and worried right up until he had his last breastfeed. Sadly, I have no recollection of what I actually did to get to the last feed, I only recall the fretting.
And now there is baby Harlow who won’t take a bottle AND is allergic to cow’s milk. So I’m fucked twelve ways to Sunday. TWELVE WAYS. Possibly more.
Additionally, I harbour a selfish desire to wear bras with underwire and to wear clothes that don't button down at the front.
I understand I am on the precipice of a tough call. The night feeds have to go. HAVE TO GO. So this means I will need to get up to my baby and cuddle her back to sleep and she is not going to like that. I mean to say, that is going to really piss her off. So in order to stop feeling so exhausted, I will have to endure a few exhausting nights. Maybe a week? What I do know is that once the overnight feeds stop, generally the frequent waking does, too. I can’t help but be excited about that.
But the journey from Point A to Point B? Is daunting. I need to commit.
So please leave your miracle solution in the comments section below or forward bottles of hard liquor to my postal address…
Thanks in advance.