The Delaney and Waylon Diaries

Two going on twenty

Waylon is one month away from turning two and he's saying the funniest things. He's been talking for several months now but each day his vocabulary grows larger. Some of his recent sayings:

Upon seeing my bra hanging in the closet this morning, 

Waylon: Whassat? 

Me: My bra. 

Waylon: Boobs go dere, mom.

***

Dad: Look, Waylon, an airplane.

Waylon: Oh yeah, know dat, Dad!

Shrinkage

The burning question has been answered. The deflating has begun.

Although I've not actively checked out my boobs over the last few weeks to see in which condition they will eventually arrive post-nursing, I accidentally glanced at them in the mirror last night while changing for bed. Lo and behold my luscious ta-tas have left the building (and, hence, my bra). In their place are cutesy, but certainly not my formerly perky and womanly, breasts that are definitely smaller and saggier than before. I wasn't upset but, rather surprisingly, caught off guard. Much like the denial I harbored about losing the volume of my lustrous pregnancy locks post-partum, I actually believed I might be lucky enough to escape the post-nursing collapse. Alas, that is not the case.

Even stranger is the differential in cup size I noticed in the shower today. And by that I don't mean I dropped a cup size all around. My right boob seems to have dropped a cup while my left is completely oblivious and carring on as a C for some unknown reason (Could it be in denial too? Could Leftie be staging a silent protest in my honor?). It's especially weird because while nursing, the right boob was the major producer so I assumed that it could end up larger than the left. Who knows what that's about? Physiology was never my strong suit.

While I'll miss The Girls as they used to exist, at least I was smart enough to have them preserved for posterity back in their heydey. A professional photographer imortalized them for me as part of a sexy, sultry photo book I gave Roger as a wedding gift. So, while they're currently experiencing their mid-slide crisis, I can still look back at how perkily they once saluted with their taught, alabaster beauty. And these new breasts? They're definitely different. But now I see them as a badge of honor sitting proudly propped in my brand-new, cheap-ass Target brassieres proclaiming to me, if not the world, that they did what they were meant to do. They came. They nursed. They drooped. And really? Nothing could be more gratifying than that.

Boobylicious? No. Bootylicious? Yes.

For the first time in her life, Delaney didn't nurse today. She didn't even seem to miss it, the little bugger. As it turns out, neither did my boobs. I'd prepared for an argument from them, or at least an objection in the form of rock-hard hooters for a day or two. But, nothing doing. They've closed up shop and are preparing for their downward decent into No-Longer-Lactating Droopdom. Or, so I've been told. Sigh. Do all former breastfeeders end up with sad sacks? Is there a possibility I'll escape the dreaded sag? Shouldn't getting a cancer diagnosis at age 26 entitle me to a free pass guaranteeing perky tits for a lifetime? Probably not.

Now, on to the tush topic at hand. The good news when you have half a colon is that it only takes half the time to scope it out. And me and the booty cam? We got along just fine. Things went well and my Booty's been given a clean bill of health. I wasn't terribly worried that wouldn't be the case, but there's always a tiny, nagging thought at the back of my mind: What if it's back? Luckily, it's not and I won't have to slurp the lovely laxative cocktail for another three years.

The last time

I may have nursed Delaney for the last time this morning. When she woke me up on the monitor it was strangely dark outside because it was raining (something that hasn't happened in months). As I carried her to our bed, I knew that this could be it and that I needed to pay special attention to every moment with her instead of trying to catch a few extra Zzzzz's. I watched over her. Brushed her hair from her face. Stroked her cheek. I locked eyes with her when she looked up at me. I told her how much I love her. And, I simply enjoyed the quiet connectedness we shared. It was a beautiful, intimate moment and if it was to be our last time to be together in this way, I am happy with it.

My "procedure" is tomorrow so I can't nurse her at all. The fortuitous timing of Delaney dropping nursing sessions the week before my date with the booty cam led Roger and me to embark upon Operation Wean. Tomorrow he'll get up with her and take her straight into the kitchen for breakfast instead of into bed with us. Assuming that goes well we'll try again on Thursday and so on for a few days/weeks/whatever it takes for this weaning to stick. The only thing I didn't consider when planning our strategy was that Wizzerbelle is coming Thursday for a visit. Which, is great. We can't wait to see her and we know she'll get a super kick out of seeing all that Delaney's up to. But, it means that Roger and I will be sleeping in Delaney's room (tiny houses suck) so I'm not sure Delaney will want to stick with the whole weaning thing if she sees me right away when she wakes up. We'll just have to see what happens. I'm not going to stress about it. Because if she doesn't wean completely this week it just means that sometime in the near future I'll get to experience another "last time." And as wonderful as this morning's was, that would be a very good thing.

Don't offer, don't refuse

I'm (nearly) ready to implement this policy in regards to breastfeeding Delaney. I read about it on the Childbearing Hipster's blog many moons ago when her tagline was, "My breastmilkshake is better than yours." I haven't been very firm about it yet, because although each time I tell myself I'm not going to offer her the breast after naps, when she doesn't ask me for it I'm all, "Um, Delaney? Want some milk? Sure you don't want some milk? (flashing the boob) Oooh, look what mama's got!" Somehow, I think that's offering it. Also? It makes me a desperate loser.

Sometimes she does want to nurse and says, "Mullk!" excitedly but other times she'll firmly tell me, "No!" and turn away. It's the turning away that crumbles my soul to dust. I always had the goods she wanted but now she's free to choose whether or not she wants 'em. Even though it's time--she's probably ready, I should be ready--I'm sad to realize the end is near. Oh, geez. There I go again. LOSER!

OK. Deep down I know it's not about her rejecting me. She's rejecting breastfeeding. She's growing up. But it's hard not to take it personally. So the whole, "Don't offer, don't refuse" thing? Not going so well yet. But, I'm cautiously optimistic. And I may not have a choice.

I've got a colonoscopy scheduled for next week so I can't nurse her at all that day (The upside? The meds ROCK--like three margaritas with no hangover, thankyouverymuch.). I've put off this long-overdue follow-up test, from the little bout of colon cancer I indured eight years ago, because I've been either pregnant or nursing. Now I don't have that excuse as Delaney can clearly handle a day without the boobs. (Oh? Have I not adequately mentioned the slightly cancerous polyp that luckily was found early and removed but led me to lose half my colon? That's a story for another day. The only interesting thing about having had that experience is the look I get to see on people's faces when I mention I had "ass cancer" at the ripe old age of 26. That phrase tends to make people all kinds of uncomfortable. Their reactions run the gamut and boy is it fascinating to see what comes out of their mouth next.) I wonder if one day without nursing will be all she needs to turn away from breastfeeding completely. We're already down to two times a day as it is. Maybe that would be the best thing...just wean quickly like rippping off a band-aid. It'll hurt (me) terribly at the time, but the emotional pain of it will dissapate quickly and not be long and drawn out. Right? Right???

***Updated to add: I think this is it. We're on the fast track to weaning now. Delaney didn't ask to nurse after either of her naps today. She only nursed this morning. That's never happened and tonight my boobs are nice and firm (Too bad they can't comfortably stay that way. I'd look good in a D cup!).

Thirteen months

The hair, it is a-growin'. Her daddy and I think it'd be cool if it becomes curly like mine. It did start to turn up at the ends a bit today (it was awfully humid...thanks Global Warming!).

In other news,I thought the weaning process was in full swing, but I was mistaken. We did have a bit of a setback when Delaney got sick and nursing was one of the only ways she could get any liquids or nutrition. So now, instead of nursing less, she's banging on my chest and demanding it more than ever. The bright spot is that we've stopped the before-bed nursing session and Delaney doesn't seem to miss it. For the last week, Roger's been putting her to bed. So, now I nurse her either right before or right after her dinner. Next, she gets a bath and has some playtime and then Roger reads her a story, brushes her teeth and puts her to bed. It was a hard habit for me to give up because I nursed her, brushed her teeth and put her to bed every single night of her life up until recently. Delaney, on the other hand, is taking it like a champ. She hasn't put up a fuss once or acted like she misses it one bit. She's so easy-going and adaptable. I will admit that there are benefits for me. I can finish my chores or take a bath and sip a glass of wine or sit and read while Roger handles bedtime. And, he gets the benefit of spending more time with Delaney and reading to her and bonding with her before she goes to sleep.

Although we've dropped this one nursing session, I'm torn about whether and when to drop others and whether or not to wean now altogether. Roger's expressed an interest in me weaning her now because he thinks she's gotten the major benefits from nursing that we hoped she'd get. He wants to be able to be the one to give her breakfast in the morning so I can sleep in. And, he wants me to be able to eat lobster and crawfish with him again (I avoid high-allergy foods, such as shellfish, just in case Delaney would have problems with them). I'll admit, these are all great reasons.

But, I just don't know if I'm ready or if she's ready. Our nursing relationship is one that I deeply enjoy. Once it's over, it's over. So, I want to pick when it should be over very carefully. On the other hand, I've heard that the closer kids get to two years of age, the less flexible they are (God, help me!) and the harder it is to wean. I don't want weaning to be a battle of wills in the months ahead. Maybe I should start the process now. The only feeding that I think Delaney will really miss is the morning one. When she wakes up, Roger gets her and changes her diaper and brings her to me in bed. I nurse her there for about a half hour while the three of us drift in and out of sleep. It's a peaceful, wonderful, lovely time of the day. Delaney's very attached to this time and would miss it and I really would too.

Until I can figure out when and how to wean her, I'm going to continue with business as usual and feed her when she wants it. I think the answer to the if and the when will come naturally and if it doesn't and I develop a strong feeling that it's time to wean, I'll follow that gut instinct. No matter what, it will be a bittersweet time and I'm pretty sure nothing can prepare me for it. It's something she and I will experience together and something that I'll always remember.

Recent happenings and what's coming up

I'm not in much of a tie-it-all-together-nicely-with-a-bow mood so here's a bulleted list of goings on in the DD household:

• On Saturday Roger and I were supposed to go out on a date (At night! We'd been looking forward to it for weeks.). But, my mom got very sick the night before and even spent time in the emergency room so my parents couldn't babysit (Luckily, she's feeling much better now.). We were bummed out, but decided that it wouldn't get us down so the three of us (me, Delaney and Roger) headed out of town for afternoon drive. We went north with no destination in mind and after about an hour or so of driving, we turned around and went back the way we came. We ended up having an early dinner at an open-air honky tonk out in the country. The weather was warm, the breeze was blowing and the view of cows in a field delighted Delaney. She had a great time on our day-trip, but by the time we left for home, she was a bit of a grump. I think she was tired of being strapped in the back for so long by herself. So, I rode in the backseat with her to keep her spirits up and that was just what she needed, a little company. I taught her where her chin is and she laughed everytime I touched it. She's ticklish there, I guess.
• On Sunday we attended a neighborhood BBQ/potluck and had a great time hanging out with several families. Again, the weather was great and, with the time change, we got to stay out later than usual. Delaney had a ball, crawling all over a quilt laid out for the kids. She entertained everyone with her babytalk (deemed the cutest they'd ever heard by the other moms) and entertained herself by watching the preschoolers run amok. This group gets together monthly for a Sunday evening potluck and they've invited us to become regulars. It'll be fun, but what on earth will we do if we ever have to host? Our house is the size of a matchbox.
• To wean or not to wean? That is the question. Actually, the question is, "Is Delaney weaning?" After our experiences last week, I was pretty sure that was the case. But, as I began to imagine the many benefits I might reap from weaning, Delaney started nursing more frequently and for longer periods of time. Just when I think I have this kid figured out, she changes the rules. I'm continuing to go with the flow and letting her lead. Stay tuned.
• I made an appointment with a pediatric allergist for the end of this week. The doctor we're going to see is a cousin of one of the ladies who cares for Delaney at the gym. I'm looking forward to the appointment in the hopes that we can get some answers (or at the very least some advice and possibly some direction about how to handle the problems with the dairy, latex, dog spit, etc.). I've gotten some wonderful, supportive comments and emails from other mothers who've been through similar experiences with their child(ren). Thank you so much! You've helped reinforce my belief that I should listen to my mommy intuition no matter what.
• I've been looking into various programs and mom groups for Delaney and me to possibly join. We're looking at The Little Gym, YMCA swimming classes, Gymboree, Moms Club International (a local chapter) and another local mommy group. We may try several of these or maybe just one or two to see how they go. Have you had experience with any of them? We keep plenty busy in the mornings by going to the gym, but now that Delaney is slowly giving up her afternoon nap, we'll have more time to do fun things outside the house together.
• Finally, we're going on a trip! But, we're not leaving town. Is that weird? Maybe. But, I'm still looking forward to it. The company that Roger and I work for is having its annual conference in a few weeks and it's taking place at a posh resort on the outskirts of the city. Roger's mom is coming to visit us then too so I've booked us all rooms at the resort for a few nights. And, a friend of mine's husband is speaking at the conference too so my friend is taking a few days off from work to stay at the resort and hang out with us. We'll all go shopping and hang out by the pool during the days while the guys are doing their conference thing and then we get to attend the parties each night. I can't wait! We may not be going far, but it'll still feel like a vacation to me.

But first, a warning

I'm writing this under the influence of half a glass of wine and two margaritas after attending a girls' dinner out (which was great, by the way, but too short as I arrived late). This is more alcohol than I've consumed at a sitting since before becoming pregnant with Delaney, unless I count my birthday outing and I don't (mostly because I can't remember the end of it).

I'll begin with the scare I had today when Delaney had her blood drawn. She saw her pediatrician on Monday for her 12-month check up and he suggested that we have her blood checked for lead since our house was built in the 40s. I took her to the lab today and they did the (horrific) deed. It was so much worse than the series of shots she got on Monday. The blood draw took forever with one clueless phlebotomist poking to try to find a vein while the other helped me hold her still. Once they found the vein and plunged the needle in, the blood stoped flowing about halfway through and Idiot #1 began moving the needle around INSIDE Delaney's arm to get it to start up again. I was about to scream at her to stop when she did and she removed the needle and the tournaquet. By this point, Delaney was a wreck, sobbing gigantic, unconsolable tears that spilled all over my pants and the floor, along with a few droplets of her blood. Idiot #2 called the lab in the back to be sure that they had enough blood to conduct the test and learned that they did. Good thing because there was no way I was going to let Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum touch my baby again.

We left their suite and before we even got to the front door of the building to leave, I noticed several angry-looking hives on Delaney's arm where Idiot #2 held her arm. I ran Delaney back to the lab and asked them if they could tell what was going on (although I was pretty sure I already knew). They told me that it looked like a latex allergy and kind of shrugged and didn't offer any other information. I'm not sure what I expected. I mean, they were just techs, not doctors. So, I took Delaney home (she was fine other than the hives) and called her doctor. They confirmed that it sounded like a latex allergy and told me to keep her away from any obvious sources (duh) like balloons. The thing that's really strange is that Delaney had balloons at her birthday this weekend and twice she's gotten balloons from the gym this week. She grasps them in her hands, she sticks her lips on them and she's never gotten hives. Aren't most balloons made out of latex?

Anyway, I'm taking her to a pediatric allergist. This new revelation plus the dairy problem is enough for me to seek the assistance of a specialist. Roger (and our pediatrician) is not convinced that this is necessary, but I am. The worst a specialist can tell me is that she's too young to be tested. But, I don't care. If that's the case, I need to hear it from someone who specializes in these scary circumstances. I don't want to find out the hard way that Delaney has some life-threatening allergy. If they can test her and tell me what to watch out for, I'll feel much better.

On another front, I'm concerned (and relieved?) that Delaney may be giving signals that she's ready to be weaned. I never anticipated this happening so soon. She's always been such a boobie baby that I figured I'd be the one to initiate weaning (and that I'd do it closer to her second birthday than her first). But lately her daytime nursings are shorter and shorter in duration and she's been biting me (even more than usual) during her evening one. I have really mixed feelings about this. I'm not emotionally ready, but at the same time when I think about getting my body back, about being able to go where I want when I want and know she'll be OK with it, that's pretty appealing. I'm not sure where to go from here or even if she's really self-weaning yet. I need to read up on this to get some pointers (or get advice from my friends in the Internet!) on how this process is supposed to work. Can I nurse her only once or a twice a day without completely losing my milk supply? She's still a great morning nurser, but that's the only time of day that she's really interested in it. I'm also worried about her getting enough liquids and nutrition if we quit nursing because she's got that dairy allergy/sensitivity thing going on so I can't start giving her milk. On Monday her doctor said it's great that we're still nursing since she can't have milk (although he didn't seem concerned about  her fluid intake if she does wean any time soon). She's just a little thing so I worry about her getting enough to eat and drink. This is a time of emotional transition for us/me and I'm having a hard time facing the fact that our baby is becoming a child.

Finally, in other news, Delaney's saying many new words these days (cookie, bird, car, peach, fish...sounds like she's saying "sish"...so cute!), she cruises and can stand up unassisted for short periods, she's discovered a love for Sesame Street and she's learned (to her great amusement) how to stick her finger up her nose. Our little child impresses us more and more each day.

Power Plays

Delaney's under the misguided assumption that she's in charge at the dd household as of late. It's been our job to gently explain to her that this is not the case.

First of all, the biting's back. This time, she's going at me with EIGHT teeth (four on top, four on bottom). The pain I felt when she chomped on me with her gums is nothing compared to the full-on Dracula frightfest I'm currently experiencing. And today when I pryed the little piranha off, told her, "No biting!" and covered up, you'll never believe what she did next. She leaned forward and bit my bra as if to say, "I'll show you who can bite, lady!" Yeah. That didn't go over so well with me. When I didn't produce the goods after this bra-bite, she threw a sobbing fit...for about 10 seconds. Then she popped her thumb in her mouth, put her head on my shoulder and chilled. It was a short-lived power play, but a power play, nonetheless. The biting behavior commenced throughout the day and the only reason I can assume it's returned is because Delaney's experiencing some frustration or another. Now that she's crawling, she can get to where she wants to go, but I think she gets pissed that she can't always tell me what she wants or needs. She's constantly "talking" and pointing and it's obvious that, in her mind, she's communicating with us. She must be frustrated that we aren't responding to her requests. Could that be what's driving her to bite? All I'm doing to handle this is telling her not to bite me and covering up the breast so she gets the point that if she chooses to bite, she can't nurse. I hope that's the best way to handle it and that it works, but I really have no idea. If it doesn't work, I'm not sure what else to do. I don't think my delicate parts can take much more of this torture, yet I hope to continue breastfeeding her for many more months.

Second, she's attempting to exercise her will at mealtimes. She previously made it known that she detests green food by spitting it out and refusing to eat it. I didn't push the issue and instead decided to give her foods I know she likes. I normally offer her vegetables and proteins first and end her meals with fruits. The other day, she determined that isn't good enough. She's started pointing to food she wants to eat first and refuses to eat anything else until she gets her way. Again, I'm not sure if I'm doing the "right" thing, but I've been giving in to her in this instance, mainly because she does eat the veggies and proteins after she eats the fruits. I figure there are some battles she needs to win so she's not feeling oppressed. I want her to know she has choices and that sometimes her decisions are good (what she chooses to eat in which order) and sometimes not so good (choosing to bite me) so that she can learn. But, she's ten months old. Is this too young for her to start learning these lessons? I don't know. I don't think so.

Third, naptime has turned into a battle these last few days. Used to be when I put Delaney down for a nap, she'd roll onto her side, pop her thumb in her mouth and go to sleep. Easy. Super easy. But, now that she can pull up, she won't settle down and nap. As soon as I put her down, she rolls onto her side, sits up and pulls up, all in about a second. So, I put some toys in the crib with her, figuring that she can choose to sleep or play, but either way, it's quiet time. Nope. It's scream time apparently. This morning she cried on and off for about 30 minutes before finally settling down to sleep. Roger would go in every 10 minutes to check on her and he'd either find her standing or sitting, protesting naptime. This afternoon, it took her about 15 minutes to get to sleep, but that was after a HUGE crying jag that got so bad Roger ended up rocking her to sleep. We're hoping that by using a little bit of compassionate CIO, she'll get back into her easy nap routine. Time will tell.

It's definitely a time of transition for her, and for us. She's so smart. She knows when she's pushing my buttons so certainly she could be ready to learn that biting is bad and that naptime is not negotiable. But, I guess I need to ramp up my mothering skills and move on from babying an infant to parenting an almost-toddler. I had no idea these changes would come so soon, but they're here and I don't think things will ever be as simple as they were before.

Grow, little vine, grow

Nursing Delaney has, of course, changed over the last few months. What was a second-nature, routine occurance--about 6-8 times a day, for about 30 minutes at a time--is now a clumsy attempt on my part to keep her at the breast for more than 30 seconds at a time. At nine-and-a-half months, she has too many interests, too many distractions (even in a dark room!) to spend more than five to ten minutes on the breast at any given time. And, I spend the majority of those minutes trying to get Delaney to sit back down and eat. Sometimes I wonder if she's getting enough milk. She's a little small for her age--in the 25th percentile for weight. Her ped isn't concerned as long as she gains weight between now and her 12-month check up. Still, it concerns me.

Nursing used to be our quiet, intimate time together. Now, it's more like a three-ring circus and I'm the clueless, out-of-breath ring master trying to reign in the new lion. We begin and Delaney lays across my lap to nurse. She sips twice, sits up looks around, claps and then goes back to the breast for another drink. Once she's had it, she pops back up, tries to climb over me and the chair to see what might be on the floor. I gently swing her back up and around to the breast, asking her, "Where's the milk?" She hungrily attacks and slurps a few more times before sitting up to point at the light or the fan or her toys. And, we continue like this until her interest in nursing depletes for that session.

Even though I feel frustrated that she won't stay at the breast, she's adorable because she's so interested in everything. I love that she's so curious and excited, but sometimes I wish she'd just chill out and eat for a while. I read in one of my many reference books that babies sometimes start to self-wean around 9-12 months. If she's ready, I need to be OK with that (other than the fact that she is allergic to milk and has never had formula, so I have no idea what she would drink!) but I'm not sure I know how to be. I love nursing Delaney (acrobatics included) and saying goodbye to that special time we spend several times each day would be difficult.

A passage in the book reads, "And, you, too will survive this monumental moment in mothering--though you'll probably continue to experience pangs when you watch other mothers nurse, even years later."

Just reading that was enough to bring me to tears. So yes, seeing other mothers nurse once we've weaned will probably bring pangs for years to come, decades even. But, I need to remind myself that whenever it is that Delaney's ready to wean, it will only be one of the many beautiful and important stages of change that demonstrate her growth towards independence. At nine months, as she was from birth until now, she's a flowering vine, blossoming before our eyes, opening petal by tiny petal. Reaching, extending, yearning to grow. It's our job (mine and her Dad's) to encourage her, witness it and love her all that we can.