It’s 12:30am and we hear Charlotte crying on the monitor. I give it a minute, but it’s escalating. I decide to go in there.
She’s standing in her crib when I open the door. I scoop her up and she snuggles into me. We sit in the glider.
We rock quietly for a minute. Charlotte looks up at me through her sleepy eyes and whispers, “Boobie?”
I pull her closer and fumble in the dark for her paci. “No, baby. Just snuggles.”
Her eyes fly open and her body goes rigid.
“I WAAAAANT IIIIIIITTTTTT!!!!” she screams as she claws at the neckline of my shirt.
I struggle to hold onto her as she thrashes defiantly.
“Shhhhh, it’s okay baby. Mama’s here.”
She finally accepts the paci. We rock. She relaxes and presses her cheek to the exposed skin on my chest. Ten minutes later, she is calm and I put her back in her crib.
This is what weaning looks like on day 7 for anyone playing along at home.
These little scream fests are breaking my heart. I hate saying no to her. I know this is her comfort and has been her entire life. It must be so hard for her to understand.
It doesn’t help that I’m also mourning this transition and it feels pretty raw. I really wanted to cry when I crawled back into bed last night.
On the up side, I bought tonic and limes at the grocery store last night because it’s going to be in the high 80s all week and I plan on breaking out the vodka. I didn’t not drink while I was nursing, but the same bottle of vodka has been in the freezer for like 3 years now, so… that’s gonna change. (I probably shouldn’t be acting like that’s something I’m proud of, but you know—oh well.)
I am also going to order some melatonin to help with the insomnia I’ve been dealing with. I didn’t want to take it while I was nursing, but now, BRING IT ON.
Also—EXCEDRIN. Oh, how I have missed it for headaches.
And the big one:
My body is MINE again for the first time in… a really long time. Long enough that I don’t even want to do the math. Between fertility treatments and pregnancy and nursing, it has been ages since I could just be. No added hormones. No dietary restrictions. Just me.
I still haven’t really wrapped my head around that, but I imagine it’s going to feel really liberating once I do.