Moulay is two years old now in both the lunar and solar calendar. His solar birthday found us here in New York with family. For his lunar birthday, we were still in Oman and that’s the day we started weaning our little man off of breastmilk. I had hoped that Moulay would end on his own before that point. He had been nursing exclusively at night for about nine months and never asked for milk at naptime or during the day. I assumed we could coast until he was ready to resign, but my side of the breastfeeding relationship was discontented. There was no shortage of milk or energy, just an instinctive feeling that we needed a reorientation in our relationship and that we would both benefit from uninterrupted night sleep. I knew that Moulay’s diet was varied and robust enough to support him nutritionally without my milk and felt strongly that he was mature enough to be comforted in different ways.
Regardless of age or timing, Moulay’s attachment to night nursing was evidently strong, and I prepared myself to support him through the transition. Urbndervish tried putting Moulay to sleep on weekends but after a few weeks, our guy caught wind of our strategy and resisted. I thought of the dissuasion techniques I read about on mothering forums like applying aloe vera to the nipples or putting band-aids on them, but they seemed dishonest and I wasn’t that desperate–at least not yet. After a sleepless night of contemplation, research, and prayer, I rose the next day with a confident resolve that it was time and that I could love him through this loss.
The first night we changed rooms and I held, sang, and rocked Moulay until he slept. It was about an hour of fussing, whining and dozing until he finally succumbed to sleep. Naturally, I hated hearing him cry, but I heard frustration and disappointment in his voice more than fear or anger. I wasn’t leaving him alone or disappearing suddenly. I was assuring and comforting him in every way I could. The next night was similar but shorter. The next night, even shorter but eventually, he stopped asking for or looking for milk. At around the seven-day mark, transitioning back into his bed next to his sister’s was a mild setback, possibly because of him associating the space with our nursing time. However, I knew we weren’t going back and so we pressed on.
I was torn about initiating weaning in Oman or during holiday, since I always notice new developmental leaps when we travel. However, for this delicate matter, I thought it best to not have the added pressure of other sleepers in the home and adjusting to time zone changes. This round of weaning wasn’t as easy as it was with Lil’ Z, but I’m learning to stop comparing the two and allow Moulay to shine and thrive in his own unique way.