Sick

Once upon a time I thought that sickness meant being sick. You feel gross, you take medicine, you press through when you have to and get extra sleep when you can, you get better. Then I had children. And my children got sick all the time. And I got sick all the time too. And I realized that sickness effects everything.

Sickness is exhaustion. It is baby waking up every 10 minutes because she is too miserable to sleep. It is baby “sleeping” on top of you, elbow in your face, knees in your side, moving restlessly. It is middle of the night throw-ups: wiping faces, changing pajamas, stripping sheets, settling a pale child back into bed. It is daddy putting on new sheets while mama deals with crying child. It is the washing machine going in the middle of the night. It is lying in bed with children climbing all over you because you are too tired to get up in the morning.

Sickness is nursing and nursing and nursing. It is wishing you had stopped nursing by now. It is being so glad you are still nursing, when your baby or toddler won’t drink anything else and is looking increasingly less pudgy than a few days ago. It is nursing your almost 2 year old in the middle of the night, even though you finally got her night-weaned months ago, because she is so miserable and just needs comfort.

Sickness is an everlasting fever chart. It is peering confusedly at the medicine record, bleary eyed in the middle of the night. It is feeling that telltale hot forehead and knowing it is starting all over again. It is finally throwing out the fever chart and then reluctantly starting a new one the next day. It is owning 6 thermometers because somehow they never seem to work.

Sickness is trying to keep track of who is supposed to have medicine. It is managing to get your children properly medicated but realizing you forgot to take your own medicines, again, even though you really aren’t supposed to miss it.

Sickness is vitamin C and elderberry, probiotics and apple cider vinegar and essential oils and hand cleaner...and wondering if they will do any good against germs coughed directly into your mouth. Sickness is toddler who won’t leave your lap coughing into your food at every meal, and wiping her nose on your shirt, and drinking from everyone else’s water bottles. It is children who remember to cover their mouths...sometimes...and who use tissue to wipe their noses...when you remind them.

Sickness is coming down with your own sickness when already worn down from nights of comforting and days of carrying around a fussy, clingy baby. It is planning your day around possible naptimes. It is not having enough voice to read home school. It is dragging yourself out of bed to make chicken soup. It is children watching too much TV. It is everything you own exploded all over the floor.

Sickness is slowly getting better – itching to clean that mess which is driving you crazy, catching up on home school reading with a scratchy throat, dealing with the dire laundry situation. It is arms so tired, hanging up the clothes. It is dizziness. It is the decision whether to press on or to lie down and rest.

Sickness is trying to listen to your body, when it says you need to rest or you might fall over and die. But sometimes your body says, “What you really need is coffee. Lots of coffee and sugar and carbs.” And sometimes it says, “I hate you. Why are you so mean to me? How would you like some double pneumonia,” and you don’t need that kind of crap right now.

Sickness is wondering why there isn’t more public recognition of the monumental milestone of “learning to throw up in a bowl,” because it may be second only to “sleeping through the night.” It is when everyone has been throwing up enough you start to hear phantom throw-up sounds.

Sickness is toast and crackers and electrolyte popcicles. It is rejecting any food or drink. It is ravenous hunger before you are allowed to eat. It is excitement over the first real food – an egg or that blessed first peanut butter sandwich.

Sickness is asthma flare-ups and extra inhalers and that barky, croupy cough going on and on.

Sickness is lying in bed looking out the window at the waning sun, darkness falling over your room like a weight, like depression. It is the knowledge that you have spent almost all day in bed, and bed feels like a prison. It is summoning energy to get children to bed amidst the evening fever rise, feeling stale and dirty but too weak to shower, looking ahead to another sleepless night.

Sickness is the disappointment of canceled plans. Missing a rare party or your child’s performance or a date with a friend. It is staying home with sick children during the holidays. It is having to tell your child that she won’t be able to go to the party she has been talking about all week. It is your toddler insistently bringing you her shoes wondering why she never gets to go outside anymore.

Sickness is confinement. It is days without stepping outside the confines of the apartment. It is well-children going stir crazy, because you can’t even send them outside to play. It is well-children missing school because you don’t want to take the sick children out in the cold and pollution.

Sickness is anxiety. It is looking helplessly at your listless child who has hardly sat up in two days. It is listening to your baby’s rapid heart rate and labored breathing. It is the dread of having to go back to the local hospital. It is self-prescribing. It is finally going to the hospital...waiting in lines and lines with sick people who touch your child’s face. It is the 30 second check up and antibiotics you hope are actually warranted. It is the fear that it could be something serious. It is searching Google, even though it will try to convince you it is cancer or TB or the plague.

Sickness is kids who act like jerks, even when they aren’t the sick ones. It is being an even bigger jerk than your children, when you are supposed to be thirty years more mature. It is taking a while to even feel bad about being a jerk because the whole world is stupid and deserves your full wrath. It is parents snapping at each other, even though we know we are both just tired, so tired and not feeling well.

It is hoping your kids forget the jerk-mom and remember the one who put a cool washcloth on a hot forehead. It is cups of juice with bendy straws and crackers to nibble. It is making meals you are too sick to eat. It is realizing your baby would sleep if only you stood rocking her for the next 10 hours. It is little heads drooped on big shoulders, little hands wound through hair. It is finally seeing the shine return to their eyes.

If, of course, you aren’t too sick to notice.

Nadia Charlotte - 1 Year Old!!

I usually say, “I can't believe this child is getting so old! Where did the time go?” For the first few months of Nadia's life I did feel this way, but overall this year has seemed long, and actually it's hard to believe it was only a year ago that I held Nadia for the first time. Surely she has been part of our family for more than a year.

Isn't it amazing how you first look into that tiny baby's scrunchy red face and have no idea yet what they will become? Of course at one year, Nadia has quite a ways to go in her “becoming.” I still have a hard time figuring out her personality, partly because Juliana has always been so strongly extroverted and Adalyn has been so much calmer/quieter in comparison. Nadia is somewhere in the middle. Despite her overwhelming mama preference at the moment, I think she tends toward extroversion. She is easily bored on her own and quite happy in a crowded room full of older kids. She likes smiling and waving at others from the comfort of mama's arms.

It has also been harder to figure Nadia out because she has been sick so much. Twelve times in her first twelve months. Whenever she is sick she is understandably fussy, and by the time she is well I am often sick, which makes her fussy too. So it's hard to figure out how much is her temperament and how much is related to sickness. Either way, I am hoping toddlerhood will be easier and healthier.

When she is happy she is very, very happy, and when she is mad she screams very, very loudly. She can go from content to distraught in two seconds (generally when mama hands her off) and back again (when she gets mama back). She doesn't talk as much as the other girls, but she makes herself known.

All the girls have gone through a glued-to-mama phase around this age, but Nadia wishes she could get her hands on some super glue. She generally does okay with Kevin if I'm not there, but if I am in sight she wants me. She is so excited when I come home. Heck, she is so excited when I come out of the bathroom, if she wasn't already in there with me to begin with. She can be with Kevin six inches away from me and still wail because she is not WITH me. She needs to be able to smush her little body into mine.  When I hold her she clings to me and pats my back.  It is sweet and exhausting.

Undeniably one of my favorite things about Nadia is her chubby, chubby cheeks. And her chubby, chubby thighs. And chin. Pretty much all of her roly-poly self begs for kisses. Many people comment on her bright blue eyes, even westerners. A lot of people we see say she looks like me, but I'm not sure how much of that is because they see us together.

It's funny to think that she was so small when she was born. She dropped down to 5lb 11oz in the week after birth and the doctor was concerned she wasn't gaining enough. Apparently she took his concerns to heart because she shot right up the growth chart afterwards. She is currently 23 pounds or 90^th percentile. She does love to nurse, all day and all night, although lately it resembles more of an acrobatic check-in. She also loves to eat. She eats pretty much what we do now and will try almost anything offered. Her favorite is probably crackers - although after today cake might a close runner up!

Speaking of her sisters, Nadia sure loves to be one of the pack. She likes to sit with them as they play Little People or My Little Ponies, quietly sneaking away their toys to chew on. Mostly she loves her sisters, although sometimes she loses patience when they love her a little too aggressively. When they come home she is always excited to see them, and she gets big smiles when it's time for night-night hugs. “Ni-ni” seems to be her first specific word, that's how much she enjoys the ritual.

For a while Nadia was surprisingly quiet, perhaps because she couldn't get a word in edgewise. Now she is babbling a good deal and will imitate some words, though she only seems to specifically say night-night and mama right now.

And you know about the sleep struggles. I guess it's improved some since the summer. She is not always waking up every 1-2 hours; sometimes she sleeps for several hours at a time. Sometimes she doesn't. Usually she sleeps from 7:30/8pm to 6:30/7am with 3-4 breaks in the middle. She naps twice a day, usually for 45 minutes, sometimes longer. Any progress has been slow and inevitably stopped by her getting sick, so what are you going to do? I'm holding out hope that we can make something stick in the second year.

Nadia can take a few steps on her own but isn't too interested in walking further right now. She has perfected the wave and lights delighting passersby by waving frantically at them. She claps and bangs and yells with the best of them. She just had her first try at a baby swing, which is a big hit. She has learned to climb up the little slide at our house and loves sliding down.

We'll see what the second year holds. Hopefully a lot less sickness, a lot more sleep, and all the same chubby smiles!

It's All the Hardest

I'm not gonna lie. Three kids is more work than two. Two kids is more work than one. And one kid is definitely more work than none. The laundry and the crying seem to multiply with each one added. The times when you only have one or two kids to deal with feel like a break. There are just so many people constantly demanding your time and energy and attention.

Nevertheless, after Nadia was born I just kept thinking, “I'm so glad she's not the first. This is so much easier.” Different people vary in their opinions of which transition is the hardest, probably depending on their particular children and circumstances at the time. For me, the first was definitely the hardest.

Nobody can really prepare you for what that transition will be like. Suddenly your moments are not your own. Your sleeping and waking and eating are dictated by another person. Such a small person who causes such big upheaval.

It's hard because the demands are so constant. Day and night, you never really get to clock out. It took a long time before I felt like there even was day and night as I had understood it before. You never before realized how much babies just want to be held. Like all the hours after 5pm. There are a lot of times when your options are hold (or wear) baby, or listen to baby cry inconsolably, which isn't so good for baby or the neighbors or mama's sanity. Any moments away from baby are planned around how long she will last until needing to nurse again.

And oh my goodness, the sleep! Never before had my life and thoughts so revolved around sleep, and I was getting so little of it. I spent frustrating hours every day trying to get Juliana to sleep. I would go to sleep at night stressed, thinking, “If I go to sleep quickly, maybe I can get in 2 hours before she wakes up!” I never knew if she would sleep for 3 hours or be awake in 10 minutes. Now Juliana was certainly a special child when it came to sleep. I don't know hardly any babies who slept quite as badly as she did. But even with a “normal” baby, sleep is highly disrupted, likely for many months. Just when you think you've really hit a groove, there's a growth spurt or sleep regression or dropping a nap or teething or sickness or just your typical Tuesday and suddenly everything is up in the air again.

It's hard because it's so unpredictable. Eventually babies do settle into a routine, and that helps. Except that the routine changes a lot. The whole first year is constant change, with each month different than the last. But even the days are unpredictable. One day baby will take an awesome nap and play contentedly for a really long time while you accomplish everything (or at least something) on your list. You have finally figured it out! The next day baby is fussy and wants to nurse or be held and sleeps fitfully and you wonder what in the world went wrong. (Nothing. It's just that it's Tuesday.)

Actually, I'm certain babies have legitimate reasons for the contentment and the fussiness, just like some days we feel so much better than other days. But you can drive yourself crazy trying to figure out the reason. (When in doubt, blame teething. It lasts foooorever.) I spent a lot of energy and frustration trying to figure out why Juliana wouldn't sleep. I read so much about baby sleep and tried so many things and felt more and more frustrated. I was certain that if I found just the right combination she would sleep like all the other babies. It did eventually happen, although technically by that point she wasn't a baby anymore.

I wish I had stopped trying to figure it out. I still would have tried different things because we really needed more sleep, but I wouldn't have agonized over it. I wouldn't have blamed myself for her bad sleeping. I would have realized there is no One True Way. I still would have been exhausted, but I wouldn't have been so frustrated and so hard on myself. You know what, I did things pretty much the same way the second time with vastly different results. Some kids sleep better than others.

It's hard because of all the comparison. Why does someone else's baby sleep so much better than yours? Why do they sit so contentedly in their little seat for longer than 3 minutes? Why do they cry less? Because they are a different baby. Maybe they have an “easy” baby and yours is more “high needs.” Maybe they are doing things differently from you, and maybe some of those things help, but babies are just different. And some of those high needs babies turn into really driven, talented people who are going to change the world.

The bottom line is parenting is hard just because it's hard. It's not that you're doing it wrong – that's just the way it is. It's hard with the first and the second and the third.  In some ways, it only gets harder.  But it also gets easier because you expect it to be hard. You know every baby is different. You learn to laugh at those ridiculous Expert ideas that will never work in real life. You become your own kind of expert while also admitting you really have no idea what you are doing. You realize it goes by so quickly. So you take a deep breath and maybe count to ten, and then you jump back in.

Nadia - One Month Old

In most of life one month is nothing special. Several months slide by without notice. But in the life of a baby, each month is a huge leap.

One month ago little Nadia was still peacefully cocooned inside the only warm, unchanging (but increasingly cramped) environment she had ever known. Since then she has experienced quite a shocking lot of change. Fortunately there is still the reassuring smell of mama and the comfort of nursing and the familiarity of yelling sisters. It was pretty obvious from birth that she recognized those loud voices.

They said I ought to start tracking faces.  I did NOT know you looked like that.

Nadia already looks a lot older. She is measuring in just over 8 lbs, at 16th percentile (but up from 8% a month ago!) While still small, her newborn clothes and newborn cloth diapers are now fitting well. Her skin has smoothed and lost the red, wrinkly just born look. She still sleeps a lot in short, newborn segments, but she has more alert spells. She has started staring more purposely at things and following faces.

Here's the lowdown on Nadia at one month:

If you don't feed me I will eat your face

Nursing: It's hard to say how often Nadia nurses.  I really just nurse her when she wants to nurse, which is generally somewhere between 20 minutes to 3 hours. She is a pretty leisurely nurser and will often nurse for an hour at a time, sometimes pausing for a little nap in the middle.  But again, sometimes she's done in 30 minutes and sometimes, in the evening, she nurses semi-continuously for several hours. She definitely feels most comfortable when mama is close by and ready to be summoned. It's pretty easy to see she has not forgotten those months of attachment.

Sleeping with her great grandmother

Sleeping: Nadia has been staying up late with daddy so mama can get a little sleep before the night shift.  Sometimes she sleeps for 2hrs at a time and sometimes she doesn't. She has had a few instances of sleeping for 3 hours. While it doesn't seem to make any difference to her, I can tell you that mama finds 3 hours much more restful that the shorter varieties. Usually Nadia sleeps best in the first part of the night and gets more restless toward morning.

Nadia has slept in her little basket bed a few times but pretty much stays with mama. She likes the the security of mama and milk within touching distance, and I feel more comfortable with her snuggled right up against me where I can check on her without fully waking up.

Temperament: Pretty content as long as she gets what she wants :) She is generally only very fussy when gassy. Otherwise nursing and/or cuddling pretty much solves the problem.

Adalyn, Juliana, and Nadia at 1 month

Characteristics and comparisons: While her coloring is a little more similar to Adalyn's, overall Nadia's features are definitely more like Juliana's. Her personality is yet to be determined. So far she is the least spit-uppy baby - sometimes you can even carry her around without a burp rag. Crazy.

Likes: Sleeping curled up on someone's shoulder, nursing and more nursing, bathtime, listening to sisters, looking at lights, lying on the floor or Juliana's bed looking around

It's all fun and games as long as nobody gets smushed

Dislikes: Being abandoned by mama (aka. having to wait more than 10 seconds before I appear), diaper changes, items brandished within 2 inches of face

Um, guys...a little help here.

Tale of a Second Nursling

A few years ago I wrote Juliana's nursing story, and I wanted to record and remember my nursing journey with Adalyn as well.

I think even Adalyn was shocked by the speed with which she entered the world.  She wailed loudly, protesting the harsh transition. But as soon as the excitement died down, she happily settled down to nurse. I loved being able to provide her with such a safe place in the strange new world - the warmth of mama's skin, a known voice, a familiar taste, a first and continuing connection.

But after her good start, Adalyn was sleepy and not so interested in nursing. The hospital's lactation consultants offered assistance, but when we left the hospital after two days, she was still not nursing well.  I wish I had asked for more help, but I figured we could work it out at home.  Besides, I had already done this before so surely I should know what I was doing, right?  Of course, Adalyn was just learning everything for the first time.

My milk came in by the second or third day, and since Adalyn wasn’t nursing so efficiently, I quickly became super, painfully engorged.  It caused a high enough fever I had to trek back to the doctor the day after leaving the hospital so they could rule out uterine infection.  Armed with pain medicine and cabbage leaves, I improved over the next few days.

The first weeks were rough.  I contracted mastitis twice in two weeks time - super high fevers, painful swelling, the whole works.  I have rarely felt so terrible in my life, but a hungry baby was always waiting, and of course nursing - the last thing you want to do - is one of the things you have to do constantly both for your sake and the baby’s.  During the worst of it, Kevin laid Adalyn next to me in bed and helped get her latched on since I couldn't sit up.

Thank goodness we were still with my family.  My mom, who has years of experience dealing with sick kids in the middle of the night, took over when I couldn't think clearly.  She helped get my fever down, called my midwife, and made trips to the 24hr pharmacy for more antibiotics, and she took care of everyone during the days of recovery.

Around this time, The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding arrived from the library.  I read it practically cover to cover, even the parts that didn’t really apply to me.  I realized how much I had forgotten about nursing from the first time around.  It was so affirming and normalizing.

The mastitis finally improved but I was left with what appeared to be a plugged duct.  After working at it for days with no success, I went back to see the hospital lactation consultant and was examined by my midwife, who thought it seemed more like a cyst than a plug.  She scheduled an ultrasound and mammogram.  We spent the afternoon at the hospital, but fortunately the cyst turned out to be harmless and didn't need any extra attention.

Finally we reached the end of the first month, and things really started turning around.  During that first month, I was so grateful for my previous nursing experience to look back on.   I kept reminding myself, "This is worth it. It will get better. You really loved nursing."

Even in the pain and difficulty, there were sweet moments during that first newborn month.  The wailing impatience of a hungry baby instantly satisfied by the breast.  The milk-drunk baby who cannot resist drifting off into sleep. The tiny hands that reach and knead.  Waking up to discover you and baby have both fallen asleep nursing side by side.  Such closeness.

And things did get better after the first month.  At least until the second month, when I discovered another plugged duct.  After working and working at it with no success, I finally went to see the doctor, who ordered an ultrasound.  The results of the ultrasound were inconclusive, so a biopsy was done.  The whole process took weeks since it was over the holidays, so I had plenty of time to imagine tragic scenarios.  Finally I got the results - everything was normal!

And then, it really was smooth sailing.  Adalyn was a faster nurser than her sister, averaging 20 minutes a session instead of 45, which made a big difference, especially during the night!  She nursed often during the day but went for longer stretches during the night, so I really couldn't complain.

As Adalyn grew, she was also a much calmer nurser - perhaps because she was used to constant distractions.  She focused without too much difficulty and attempted much less acrobatics.
Her first birthday passed by with no thought of weaning.  What was a decision with Juliana - extended breastfeeding - was never a question with Adalyn.  It seemed perfectly natural to keep nursing, not “extended” at all.  We gradually reduced sessions until she just nursed before nap and bedtime, or occasionally during the day if she was fussy.  I would sometimes bring her into bed in the morning to nurse, but she rarely settled back down.

She derived great comfort for nursing, and I loved the connection with my busy toddler.  She loved to hold my hand or play with my fingers while she nursed. When she was feeling tired or sad or lonely, she would cry, "Naptime! Naptime!" Which I eventually realized meant nursing.  

Then one day at about 19 months, Adalyn abruptly stopped nursing.  One day she was happily nursing and the next she refused. I thought it was teething, which were obviously making her miserable, but as the days passed with no further interest in nursing, I knew she was done.

She nursed longer than many babies do, of course, but I was still sad for our nursing relationship to end.  I wish I had warning so I could capture those last days of special closeness.  I missed our time of cuddling, which she now had no patience for, and we had to work out a new bedtime routine.

Now I sit beside her crib and sing her a few songs while she sits up and pushes her face between the bars for kisses.  It's not the most calming routine, as it keeps us both laughing, but it's also irresistible.

I am grateful for the 19 months I had nursing my sweet second baby! 

Tale of a Nursling

Note: I am not writing this to make anyone feel bad about whether they nursed or how long; I am writing because I want to share my story of what a great experience nursing can be.


Nursling Baby
Juliana nursed for the first time when she was about half an hour old.  It must have been very comforting, after being thrust into a loud, confusing world, to once again be surrounded by a familiar smell, a familiar taste, and a recognized voice.  Her tiny hands flickered over my skin, and she looked up at me with big, bright eyes.  I could hardly believe she was mine, but she obviously knew I was hers.

The first couple of weeks of breastfeeding were very difficult.  Juliana latched pretty well from the start, but she was jaundiced, so keeping her awake long enough to nurse was nearly impossible.  We took off her clothes and annoyed her in every way possible but she still slept on.  Getting enough milk was important to reduce the jaundice, so the hospital lactation consultant recommended I started pumping and giving her extra feeding from a syringe.  Each feeding I spent 30 minutes trying to wake her up enough to nurse her, then I spent 30 minutes painfully pumping while Kevin fed her tiny bits of colostrum from a syringe.  It was so hard to relax, and the high blood pressure I developed just after leaving the hospital didn‘t help.  She nursed every 2-3 hours during the day and we had to wake her up every 3 hours at night, so there wasn't much of a break before it was time to start over again.

Once the jaundice started to go away, Juliana became more alert and nursing was much smoother.  I was happy to leave the breast pump behind for the most part.  For the first month or two she mostly ate every 2-3 hours, for 30-45 minutes each time, and I felt like I was nursing all the time.  I read 20 books in the first three months, mostly in the middle of the night!  I also watched a lot of TV, both of which were helpful in allowing me to relax.  Once we both started getting the hang of breastfeeding, it became much easier.  I loved the way Juliana would close her eyes and start rooting around when she was hungry, and she would wail pitifully if she had been hungry for longer than 30 seconds.  I loved the way she predictably drifted off to sleep at the end of every nursing session, too warm and cozy to resist.

I first started nursing in public when Juliana was 5 weeks old and we had a 37 hour flight back to China.  I was a little nervous about it since I still wasn't entirely comfortable with nursing even with no audience, but it went fine.  By the end I felt much more comfortable nursing on airports and airplanes and with people looking over my shoulder.  Nursing isn't as popular in China right now, but people do seem to be a bit more open about it.  When we would have (female) students or teachers over and I was nursing Juliana, they would come sit by me and watch her nurse.

When Juliana was about 2 months old I developed mastitis.  A student took me to see the local doctor and then tried to translate his diagnosis: "He says you have too much milk."  Eventually we were able to translate the word "mastitis" which made things a little clearer, but then he prescribed some medicine I shouldn't take and told me to stop nursing, which I knew I shouldn't do.  After a call to the doctor-aunt of another student and a bit of self diagnosis, I bought some amoxicillin and it started to improve.  Everything I read said that rest was very important…they probably didn't mean "take a 14 hour train to Beijing and then trek across the city on bus and subway."  But Juliana had a 2 month check-up and immunizations, and at least I was able to see a better doctor in Beijing who confirmed that the mastitis was improving.

Once we got past the early days, nursing was pretty easy and I enjoyed it.  I loved the connection I felt with Juliana and the peace I felt knowing I was providing the nutrition and comfort she needed.  She continued to nurse during the night, but a particularly nasty stomach bug forced me to learn to nurse lying down, which was helpful.  She went through several stages of supreme distraction, and there were times when she drove me crazy by picking at my skin.  She learned to do some pretty complex acrobatic moves while nursing, a skill I didn't always enjoy.  But overall, things were going great.  She became a more efficient nurser and started to nurse for 15-20 minutes instead of 30-40, and she wasn't nursing as frequently so it was much easier to schedule going out or being away from her for short periods of time.  She was never on a strict schedule, but she naturally fell into a relatively predictable routine.
 
Nursling Toddler
Shortly after Juliana was born I distinctly remember telling a friend I planned to nurse her until she was about a year old and that was long enough.  I said, "Once she can start asking to nurse, that's a little weird."  Now I have to laugh at how much my thinking has changed.  When she reached the one year mark I thought, "One year is such an arbitrary time.  Just because it's when most people stop nursing doesn't seem like a good enough reason to stop."  So I didn't.  To my surprise, I found that nursing a past-one year old seemed completely normal.

One day Juliana started walking and suddenly I was nursing a toddler, something I would have never seen myself doing before Juliana was born.  But once again, it seemed pretty arbitrary to stop nursing just because she started to walk.  I read more about the benefits of "extended breastfeeding" both for Juliana and myself.  We were both still happy to be nursing, so why stop?  I knew it would seem strange to some people, but fortunately I discovered many friends who had nursed into toddlerhood.

As Juliana started to enjoy drinking cows milk and became less dependent on nursing, I gradually started nursing her less.  By 15-16 months I was just nursing her before bed and first thing in the morning.  It was nice to have more flexibility during the day, and I enjoyed a chance to cuddle with my increasingly active child.  At bedtime when she asked, "Nurse?  Nurse?" it seemed sweet rather than strange.  Sometimes she would stop in the middle of nursing and look up to give me a kiss.  I could tell these times were important to her for a lot more than just nutrition.  In the mornings I brought her into bed with us and enjoyed not having to get up right away at 6am.  Sometimes she would doze off and we'd both get a little more sleep.

Weaning a Nursling
I planned to stop nursing when Juliana was about 2 years old, but it took a little bit to actually get around to it.   I kept thinking, "I guess I should stop nursing," and then I would think, "But why?  We are both still happy with it."  I don't think there is anything naturally strange about nursing a toddler (in fact the worldwide average age for weaning is four!), though I realize it is a bit countercultural.   At some point I think we have to take cultural norms into account, but let's be honest - there is quite a bit about my life that falls outside of the cultural norms!

Around 26 months I decided to stop nursing at night, since Juliana was only nursing for a few minutes.  I usually prayed for her as she nursed, so instead I just held her and prayed with her.  For a few weeks she sometimes asked, "Nurse?"  I would say, "No, we'll just pray together," and she was fine with that.  A few weeks later she randomly, wonderfully started sleeping much later in the morning, so the morning feeding disappeared rather naturally.  Since her entire weaning experience was so gradual, it was never difficult for either of us. 

I admit that I am a little sad to think of this sweet part of our relationship coming to an end.  It is just one more milestone to show how quickly Juliana is growing.   But mostly it seems like the right time for us to let it go.  I am so grateful for the opportunity to nurse Juliana as a baby and a toddler.  I am grateful for all the support from friends and family and doctors who never doubted my decision.  It has been a beautiful experience.