Weaning attempt No. 574 - Aunty N's offer of Smarties

Late Sunday afternoon I was home preparing for iftaar when the kids burst through the door from a visit to their grandmother and aunt.

''Aisha, tell mommy what Aunty N. said! Tell her!'' yelled an excited Tharaa (10).

Aisha (2) recited her response (they'd clearly been coaching her in the car), '' Aunty N. said she'll give Aisha Smarties.''

''If?'' they all asked in unison.

''If Aisha doesn't drink boobies anymore,'' she reluctantly added.

''And are you going to ask for boobies tonight?'' I asked, not getting my hopes up.

''No, no more boobies! Aisha is getting Smarties!!'' she yelled gleefully.

Now try to understand what a breakthrough that was. She has never ever been able to utter those words. It must have been like me saying, ''No, no more chocolate!'' Just downright painful.

And so it went on for the rest of the evening. With us constantly checking and rechecking if she had changed her mind.

By bedtime, which is her main boobie-time, she was still sticking to her guns. I was slowly becoming excited. Was this it? Had my era of disturbed sleep due to breastfeeding finally ended?

I lay next to her as usual. But instead of facing her to breastfeed her, I turned my back to her. She was restless. She tossed and turned, chattering to herself. I was starting to become nervous, but remained hopeful. Never before had she lain next to me at bedtime for so long without demanding to be nursed. And then, in a small voice, she whispered, ''Mommy, booby please.''

At first I pretended not to hear her. Then she repeated her request. Feigning excitement, I reminded her, '' Remember what Aunty N said? She'll give you Smarties if you stop asking for boobies. Isn't that exciting?'' (That is exciting to her, since she's never been given an entire box of Smarties - I normally ration them strictly).

But she continued to tug at my pyjama top. I started to panic. And then I added, '' Aunty N will give you Smarties and Maama will give you a pretty dress.'' What was I doing? But I was feeling desperate and she had clearly shown that she'd be more likely to respond to bribes from other people - so I got a bit carried away.

''And granny will give you pretty hair clips,'' I added, fully realising that we would have to buy said dress and hair clips and give these to Maama and Granny to give to her.

She said nothing more for about 2 minutes, but continued to toss and turn miserably. Then the tugging began once again.

I turned to her and decided to sing to her, while rubbing her back. This had always calmed Shakeel (13) and Nuha (7), so maybe it would work on her too. I sang and hummed, stroking her softly down her back and tousling her hair. She lay still for 5 minutes when suddenly and really definitively, she pronounced, ''That's enough. Now booby please.''

Again, I tried to entice her with the same offers of gifts. Then followed an exasperated sigh.

''Goodness gwacious (gracious),'' she muttered annoyedly.

''What was that?'' I asked, not sure if I'd heard correctly.

''I don't want Smarties,'' she stated. '' I don't want a pweddy dwess (pretty dress). I don't want hair clips.'' And then she added for good measure - as if to preclude me from attempting to sweeten the deal any further, ''And I don't want pom poms, I don't want a necklace and I don't want clockit (chocolate). I WANT BOOBIES!!!!!

And - that's what she got. I could no longer argue with her. I knew that I'd lose.

And few seconds after latching - as if she'd been administered a general anaesthetic per nipple - her eyes closed, her body grew limp and heavy and she was sound asleep.


So thanks Aunty N. Nice try. But I have pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I may have to visit a fifth-grade Aisha at school during break-time in order to give her her fix.

And, somewhere out there, her future therapist beams delightedly at the prospect of repeat business.
　

Boobie love

So after my first unsuccessful attempt at weaning (described here), Aisha (2.5 years!!) is pretty much back on the breast. More frequently and for longer periods than before the weaning attempt, during which she was off the breast for all of 12 hours.

She has since been attached to them with all the passion of someone who had just been reunited with her long-lost love - refusing to let them out of her grip.

A few days ago I sat breastfeeding her (filled with shame). Feeling frustrated at my failure at weaning, I started to scold and nag at her about how unacceptable it was that she was still breastfeeding at her age. (I have no idea what it was meant to accomplish - as if she'd unlatch, thoughtfully nod her head, jump off my lap and consider herself weaned).

''You are a big girl now. You shouldn't be drinking from mommy's boobies. No more boobies for Aisha!''

Without unlatching she shook her head profusely, indicating her disagreement - then gave me the thumbs-up sign which she uses while breastfeeding to say ''Is everything okay? / Are we good?''

But I refused to give up.

''Boobies are yucky. No more boobies for Aisha. Yucky boobies'', I persisted.

At which point she unlatched rapidly, cupping one of the boobies in her hand (as if to protect it from being exposed to my insulting words) and said, ''Not yucky boobies. Nice boobies''. Then tilting her head, staring at the object of her affection with an endearing smile, she said, ''Aah, my cutie-pie'', before latching on again, as if happy that she had been able to reassure them of her undying love.

Last night Aisha and I reunited after having been apart for about four hours (during which I had dropped and fetched the older kids at madrassah, cooked, helped the older kids with homework and served supper). I reached out to hug her and kiss her chubby cheeks, when she pushed me back slightly - to lift up my t-shirt. ''Oh, my babies!'' she said before attacking one while holding the other in her loving embrace.

How on earth am I going to end this love affair?

Aloe boobies

I have had a really difficult 36 hours. On Sunday afternoon, without much fore-thought or planning, I decided to wean Aisha.

I know that this is way past due - she is already 2 years and four months old and breastfeeding at this age seems to be unacceptable. Initially, my main concern was our religious ruling on breastfeeding children beyond the age of two, but we were reassured by our Imam that it was perfectly acceptable to breastfeed beyond this age (obviously within reason).

So I relaxed, and continued to enjoy bonding with Aisha this way. She absolutely loves her boobies, using them mainly for comfort and not really for nutrition at this point. Many a tantrum has been averted simply by flashing them - it is incredible to watch how her face changes from outrage and frustration to sheer happiness within seconds. I love watching her face as she breastfeeds - the contentment and joy warms my heart. Recently, when she catches me watching her face intently while she's breastfeeding, she will give me a thumbs-up signal. Really funny and cute.

Recently she fell off a high fold up chair, as it crashed to the ground. Her forehead hit the ground, as she had fallen head-first. The shock of the fall had her in a state of hysteria. It was absolutely amazing how she calmed down instantly after she'd lifted my top to seek comfort from her boobies. After a few minutes the violent sobbing was replaced by gentle peaceful breathing.

I didn't breastfeed this long with my other three kids. There had not been a need for a weaning process, since all of them had just naturally moved on to the bottle. If anyone had told me that such emotional turmoil would be the result of weaning this one, I might have stopped sooner.

A while back I started to do a blog post on the sadness I was feeling about the prospect of weaning her. I researched other such cases on the internet, but did not find anyone who was suffering to the extent that I was. I felt alone and weird - and like a weakling. But I could not finish the post, as it became too painful. I kept bursting into tears.

I feared the prospect of weaning her. I knew that the sadness would escalate into full-blown grief. Nobody could relate. Other mommies who had weaned kids, who were born more or less around the time Aisha was, laughed when I told them how sad I was feeling. (In their defence, their laughter was not mocking - they were merely responding to the jovial joking tone in which I mocked my own silliness- in the hopes that someone would say they understood and that they were feeling the same).

My sadness can be attributed to the fact that it feels as if the bond between us will break. Our relationship will change - she will need me less. But more importantly - much more importantly - I'm heartbroken about the fact that I will not be able to provide her with the comfort I used to. I feel as if I will be robbing her of something which gives her so much joy, contentment and solace. Since she does not take the dummy/pacifier or bottle, there is no substitute which I can offer her.

I chatted to moms about how they had gone about the weaning process. I got advice which ranged from applying Mercurochrome to the nipples (to resemble blood), chocolate (to resemble poo) and bitter aloe (which apparently tastes so vile that the horror and disgust is said to linger long after the child has tasted it). Most moms recommended the bitter aloe, swearing by its effectiveness. But when I raised the topic with our family doctor, she reiterated what I'd thought - this method was cruel. She suggested that I explain to Aisha that she was hurting my boobies and try to get her to see the reason behind the decision to wean. I knew that there was no way that would work.

But I tried it - I told Aisha that she was hurting me, which upset her, making her cling to me even more.

A few weeks ago I, once again, found myself around other mums who had weaned. My embarrassed admission that I had still not weaned was met with shock, surprise and the usual advice. As usual, nobody could understand what the big deal was, making me feel really alone - and annoyed at myself.

On Sunday afternoon, without prior warning and very much on the spur of the moment, I decided to apply some bitter aloe to my nipples. My heart broke as I did it. Very dramatically, I kissed and hugged Aisha just before I did it - it truly felt as if I was saying good-bye to her (or at least to my breastfeeding baby). I had a lump in my throat the entire time.

I called her over and offered her her boobies, which she willingly took. Nothing could have prepared me for her reaction when she tasted it. She looked shocked, she panicked and then gagged. She started to rub her tongue with her sleeve, desperate to get the taste out of her mouth. I panicked - what the hell had I done??? I was such an idiot! A cruel stupid people-pleasing idiot!!! How could I have done this to my baby? And why? Simply because I was feeling the pressure from other people. I hated myself - I truly hated myself. I still do.

I quickly applied toothpaste to her tongue. Eventually she calmed down - but she was clearly affected by the experience. She kept repeating to her older siblings ''Kakka (Yucky) boobies'' and pointing at me. She was uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the night.

During the middle of the night, she awoke as usual for her boobies. Unaware that the taste could not simply be wiped away, I offered them to her. She started to cry - for about an hour. It was not her usual middle-of-the night tantrum. She was crying bitterly. She was angry. She sat up and started to suck on her hand. Then I started to cry. I sobbed and sobbed, feeling helpless and full of regret. I could not console my baby at all. She pushed me away when I came near her, whimpering, ''Kakka boobies, kakka mommy''. I reached out to touch her, but she pushed my hand away, saying, ''Kakka mommy's hand''. I was heartbroken, but I deserved it.

Mo brought me a facecloth to attempt to remove the taste once again. I rubbed and rubbed until my nipples were raw. Then he gave me some golden syrup to rub on my nipples - in an attempt to undo the damage I had done with the aloe. Hesitantly I did so ( I realised that the harm done by a bit of sugar did not outweigh the harm that I had already done to the child). I offered her her  sweetened boobies, but she pushed me away. She eyed me suspiciously, crying all the time. I wept along with her.

I told her that her boobies were tasting better now - I put a tiny bit of the syrup on her lip to illustrate what they tasted like now. She swiped my hand away. After another fifteen minutes of crying, I picked her up and quickly put the sweetened boobie in her mouth. She did not resist (I'm not sure if it was from exhaustion).

Although she has been back in her tantrum phase for about two months, she had always been pleasant, funny and lovable in between her tantrums (of which there would be about two or three a day - which includes her middle-of-the-night tantrum).

Yesterday was a complete nightmare. Although she took her boobies the morning, she kept talking about the kakka/yucky boobie experience. She was quiet, angry and aggressive all day. The number of tantrums were too numerous to count. She was particularly aggressive toward me, which was strange since I'm usually the one who comforts her and calms her down. I felt depressed, powerless. I missed my happy baby. I felt as if I had broken her.

Last night's middle of the night tantrum was particularly bad. She did not want boobies in bed (which is VERY VERY UNUSUAL). She wanted to fall asleep with her head on my shoulder, which under any other circumstances, would have made me so happy - but this was because she still did not trust that I would not give her yucky boobies again. She fell asleep on my shoulder after screaming for more than an hour.

She awoke again at about 06:00, insisting that I apply 'medicine' to my boobies - she was referring to the golden syrup which had fixed them when  they were kakka/yucky. I complied with  her request and asked if she wanted her boobies. She didn't - she had simply wanted to ensure that her boobies were no longer yucky.

This post has been written over a half-a day (due to lack of time to sit and write it in one go), and at this moment I am feeling so much relief. She has just awoken - happy. However, being the idiot I am, I forgot that I had applied the golden syrup at 06:00 am, so when I offered her the boobies, she shrank back with panic at their unusual (albeit pleasant) taste. But, it doesn't matter - for now she's smiling again. I hope and pray that she remains happy for the rest of the day.

Which still leaves me with the problem of a possible weaning method. But I shall worry about that another time - right now I'm just happy that she's happy.

(If anyone has suggestions regarding methods of weaning, please feel free to share it. I will really appreciate it)

Whether boobies or titties- its time to wean

I realised about two months ago that I would have to start weaning Aisha soon. Let me tell you- the very idea terrifies me. Offering her the boob has turned out to be the only thing that can stop a tantrum before it starts (sometimes, not always).

Initially the idea saddened me. We have developed such a strong and loving bond and I truly am afraid that weaning her will change that.

But I realise that the time has come to man up. In fact I realised this when she stopped referring to my breasts as 'boobies' and started calling them 'titties' (obviously thanks to one of her older siblings). To me the two words have completely different connotations. The way I see it, the reference to 'boobies' is cute and still carries a sense of innocence, whereas 'titties' are found in X-rated movies- (or so I've heard).

About two months ago we were at a prayer meeting we usually attend on Sunday evenings as a family. If I were to provide a profile of the average member of this group, I'd say 45-60 years old, predominantly male and very conservative. Close to the end of the meeting we reached the time for silent prayer in which we each did our silent personal supplications. So there I sat, eyes closed, focused in prayer, appealing for forgiveness, protection and the blessings of peace and light in the family, when a shrill voice echoed through the room, "Titty mommy! Mommy want titty peez! Titty, titty, titty! Nooowww!!" Though not known for my agility or speed, I managed to get her out of there faster than the speed of light. We spent the remaining time in the freezing cold, with me preferring to face the risk of pneumonia.

But I have since been delaying weaning her for obvious reasons, i.e. it is such a difficult process where the child is so dependent on the breast for comfort, and has no alternative source of comfort (like a bottle or pacifier). But I'll also miss breastfeeding because of the pivotal role I now play in her life. I am the only one who can provide her with that comfort and absolute pleasure. As far as boobs go, let's just say no one would mistake me for Pamela Anderson- very much the contrary in fact. So I must say that I have really been enjoying this new experience of having someone's eyes light up when they see my boobs. Never before have my breasts been appreciated this much- by anyone. I have now experienced the feeling which our well-endowed sisters often complain about- the feeling of having someone look at you and appreciate you only for your boobs. The only difference is, I don't mind in the least. Disgustingly, I have actually enjoyed being objectified.

But whatever the reasons I've been prolonging the experience (whether valid or warped), sadly the time has come for it to end. I'll have to figure out a way to make the experience as painless as possible- for both of us.