A while ago I posted that we’d begun the weaning process. Only as it turns out, we hadn’t really. After missing that night, Beauty was quite certain she never wanted to miss another. So we kept on with it. She did go down for Hero’s parents one night so Hero and I and my family could go see John Carter.
(John Carter was actually a lot of fun. Campy and silly, yes, but a lot of fun, with a decent balance of action and romance and blowing things up. I have since read the books – the first three, anyway – and those are fun too, if you are willing to overlook the ridiculous racism.)
And then last night my breasts started to get really, really sore while she was nursing. And I noticed it again when I went to bed. And when she started to nurse this morning and it still hurt, I took her off.
And she cried. And cried and cried and cried. So I got her breakfast and then I cried and cried and called my mother.
And my mother very sensibly pointed out that she cried nearly as much the other day when I had the temerity to expect her to eat a bite of lentils as part of her dinner. In other words, the fact that Beauty is crying does not mean I’m a bad mother. In all likelihood, it’s a sign that I’m being a good mother to an occasionally very stubborn toddler.
So that helped. Mom suggested that I could call the Birth Center for advice if I wanted to keep going, but I was planning on stopping at some point soon anyway, so why fight it?
So bedtimes and mornings will be rough until she settles down, but that was bound to happen and won’t do any harm. I’m not upset over the end of nursing itself. I would like to know why I’m suddenly so tender, but that will pass. Probably. If I’m pregnant I guess it could take a while. If I’m not…who knows?