Another update on weaning of the human pacifier

I am late in making this update, but it is because we had some crazy nights last week.

During week three of weaning the human pacifier, (Can you believe it's only been three weeks? It seems soooo much longer.) we went from going to sleep really easily, to four nights of flat out, unmitigated refusal to sleep until I was ready to go to bed and essentially forced her to get in bed with me.

Last Tuesday, I found some really awesome YouTube videos by searching "lullaby." Annika loved them and she watched them until she was really sleepy, then passed out after nursing for only about three minutes. She slept for two and a half hours before waking up and crying out for me.

These are my two favorites videos.





Then Wednesday came along and she was like a wild woman. She would watch the videos, then nurse and just as her eyes would be fluttering closed, she'd pop off, roll over, stick her tiny little head up and grin while she rolled over me to hop off the bed and look at books.

This happened every night until Saturday. Then Sunday she nursed to sleep pretty easily. Last night was weird, she watched videos, then I was able to easily nurse her to sleep.

The weird part was not how she went to sleep, but how she slept. First of all, she slept for about three hours before waking up at all.

In the middle of the night, I awoke to find that she'd crawled off of the bed and fallen asleep on the floor. I debated bringing her back to bed because I didn't want to wake her. Ultimately, I decided in all good conscience I could not leave my baby sleeping on the floor. So after a few minutes of debate, I pulled her back into the bed. And she didn't wake up!

Then later in night/early morning, I awoke to find her sleeping half on the bed and half off. I did leave her there since she was technically still on the bed. When I got up at 7 a.m. I put her back on the bed where she stayed asleep for a few more minutes.

The only thing that's changed is her getting used to sleeping without a boob in her mouth. In a previous post I wrote that I heard somewhere that it takes six weeks to change a habit. But last week I heard from another source that it only takes three weeks. So, it's been three weeks. Is the habit changed?

THAT is still the million dollar question.... To be continued.

How we got from there to here

Annika's sleep habits have been the hardest part of the first year of her life. Other than sleep issues, Annika has been a super easy baby. She's a happy-go-lucky kiddo. She smiles all the time. She gives hugs and kisses. She's curious about the world around her. She loves to laugh.

But sleep has been an issue. For the most part of her first year, I have been pretty sleep deprived. Well, after the first four months anyway.

So here goes.

I am embarrassed to admit that during my pregnancy I didn't do much reading up on sleep habits of infants. I had no idea that infants can't just fall asleep on their own. And I had no idea that they wake up a lot. I mean, A LOT. You know that saying, "sleeping like a baby?" Whoever said that was a moron... or didn't have kids... I mean.

When we brought Annika home from the hospital, the first night I nursed her to sleep, put her in her crib and went to bed. She awoke around 2 a.m. And I sat up in the rocking chair nursing her until she went back to sleep. I remember moving to the couch staring at her for awhile while she slept. I was able to carry her around and she'd stay asleep. I thought this was how it would be.

Little did I know that newborns are very sleepy during the first week or so. It makes sense if you think about it. They've just had a major move. They went through some major trauma, essentially being evicted out of the womb.

But after a couple of weeks, all of a sudden, sleep doesn't come so easily. And I quickly learned that the easiest way to put her to sleep was to nurse her all the way down.

I never planned on co-sleeping. I'd heard all of the negative things about it.

“You'll never get them out of your bed if you co-sleep.”

“They won't learn how to sleep on their own.”

Yada yada yada.

I was going to have none of that.

Well, after waking up every night around 2 a.m. to nurse and then again around 6 a.m. again, to nurse. I realized one night that I could just take her to bed with me when she awoke at 2. I decided to ignore those stupid voices in my head that said she'd never want to leave my bed. Plus, I'd been reading Dr. Sears and he promotes the hell out of co-sleeping.

I decided Dr. Sears and myself were right. It would be easier to bring her to bed with me. So I did. And we were happy. I was getting plenty of sleep. I'd wake up easily when she woke me at 2ish. She'd nurse and I'd watch her dreamily and stroke her hair while she nursed; then when she was done, I might get up to go to the bathroom; then I'd go back to sleep for another nice four-hour chunk of sleep.

It wasn't long before I was skipping the crib altogether and just nursing her to sleep in my own bed. Often, I stayed in bed with her. I was tired, she wanted to nurse. It made life easier.

I wondered why people said newborns didn't sleep well. When people asked me how Annika was sleeping, or commented on how I must be tired. I'd say, “No, I'm not tired. I get plenty of sleep. It's not good quality sleep. But I get plenty of sleep.”

I realize now just how lucky I was in those first few months. Sometimes I wish I had realized it then. But how could I have?

When I told other parents how well Annika slept, they said, “Oh you are so lucky to have a good sleeper.” In some way I knew it. But I didn't really get it. I couldn't have. I had no idea that I was resting up for what were to be some of the hardest, most tiring days of my life. Nineteen and a half hours of back labor had been a cake walk compared to this.

At this point I was just about to write that it's probably a good thing I didn't know what I was in for. But then I revisited that thought. No. It is not a good thing I didn't know. It is a very bad thing I didn't know. If I had known. I think, I hope, that I would have prepared myself better for it. I would have asked for more help. I would have done more research. I would have been better prepared and maybe it would have gone more smoothly. Maybe it wouldn't have lasted so long. Maybe she would be sleeping better now and I wouldn't have to wean her from using me as a human pacifier.

But, as they say, kids don't come with manuals.

Becoming a parent is like getting an Ikea bed off of Craigslist with no directions and no picture of the final product. You've got all these crazy parts. Everything looks the same. All the holes fit together, so you're not really sure if you've got the right parts attached to each other and just when you think you've got it put together right, you look down at the floor and see this tiny little bolt and you figure, oh, it's no big deal, the thing is put together. It seems fine.

Then you go to sleep that night and in the middle of the night the bed comes crashing down around you. You are running through the house crying because your nipples are sore and you are tired of nursing, and your neck hurts and your back aches, and you are tired of getting woken up just as you drift off to sleep, so you are trying to get the bed some water thinking that might pacify it, or maybe you just want to go to the bathroom, meanwhile the bed is screaming from the other room as if its going to die and then this random thought floats through your mind that if only you'd found where that bolt went, maybe you would be sleeping happily in a safe and secure bed right now. But you have no idea where the bolt even is anymore and even if you knew where it was WHERE THE FUCK IS THE SCREW IT FITS ON?! I DON'T KNOW!

That paragraph is a horrifying metaphor of several nights I had around the six month to eight month mark of Annika's life. And maybe a few between eight and 10 months, although I don't think they were quite as dramatic the second time around. Maybe it was because it wasn't as bad. Or maybe it was because I was used to getting woken up for the seventeenth time to nurse for five minutes or an hour, or three seconds and then two minutes later, again for 20 minutes. And then 30 minutes later just as I was about to drift off again for the seventeenth time that night OH MY GOD SHE WANTS TO NURSE AGAIN I AM IN A LIVING HELL!

Ok, so, yeah, that basically describes the sixth month, most of the seventh month and some of the eighth month.

I didn't dream at all during that time and most of the time I felt like I was living under water. The world was right in front of me, but I was detached from most of it. I lost words mid-sentence. I couldn't quite see what was right in front of me because often it was blurry, or there were dark swirly waters and waves drifting in front of my face.

I think for the most part I had just gotten used to it and started sleeping through some of the night wakings because I know that during eight months to a year, Annika still woke up a lot. I mean, a lot. But it wasn't every night. We'd have a bad night or two, then she'd sleep ok for a night or two, or sometimes a week, then we'd have a bad night again. But these nights weren't so bad because I knew what to expect. I knew that if I got up, it would just get worse. So I'd lie there and stare and think.

I found ways to enjoy the time while Annika nursed and slept. I spent a lot of time staring at her dreamily and reminding myself that she would not be this little for very long. I cuddled with her. I stroked her hair and kissed her face. I kept the light on and read parenting books. Toyin bought me an iPod Touch for Mother's Day, which was one of the best presents he's ever bought me. And he gives good presents.

So, we got through it. Now we are in a new phase. I know she might backslide and I'm okay with that. The cool thing is I've realized that these days were a good thing because I've learned a lot. I am much cooler under pressure. And I've realized that the infant days are prep work for the future. I feel like we've prepared a good solid foundation.

Update on weaning from the human pacifer

So far, so good.

I can't believe it's going so well this time. See, I actually tried this before, when Annika was eight months old. At that time, it was two months into the human pacifier habit, and I was feeling really frustrated. We went through some really rough nights around that time. So at eight months old, I tried the No Cry Sleep Solution, by Elizabeth Pantley. This is not a judgment on Pantley's advice, I've heard lots of mamas sing her praises, but it didn't work for us. Not one bit.

Annika is a lot like me in the respect that she knows what she wants and she is going to get it come hell or high water. I admire her strong spirit, but when our bullheadedness clashes, it is not pretty. I am already thinking ahead to her teen years when I will likely be going through menopause. Lord help us all when that time rolls around. In about 15 years if Texas starts having earthquakes, you'll know why. That will be me and Annika duking it out over who gets the car that night.

So, yeah, it didn't work well at eight months. But now, it is working like a dream.

I was able to get up during her nap yesterday. I did have to go in and nurse her back to sleep once, but I was able to get up again. And SHE STAYED ASLEEP. That never happens.

Then last night, I was able to watch almost an entire movie after she went to bed.

It is truly a miraculous thing.

Balance is good. My brain is feeling clearer and the days are looking brighter. I no longer get that sense of dread when it is 7 p.m. and I have to get myself ready for bed because there is no telling if I'll be able to slip away in order to brush my teeth.

Weaning the human pacifier, night two

Tonight went much easier than last night, so far.

At 7 p.m. I took Annika into the bedroom. We read three books and then she was ready to nurse. By 7:30 p.m. she was sound asleep. She even unlatched on her own. Her mouth had fallen open in a rare deep sleep where she is no longer nursing.

I waited a few minutes, then tried to get up. She started awake and immediately began to root around for my breast. I decided to let her have it. I figured I should have waited longer to try and get up. I let her nurse for five minutes. She was sleeping, but still nursing. I unlatched her.

Knowing that she was not fully asleep, I felt more emotionally prepared for what was about to happen, than I did last night.

As soon as I stood up, I could tell that she remembered last night. Even so, I attempted to sing and sway. She was having none of it. This time she fought me harder. She arched her back and wailed. She pushed away from me in a mean tantrum.

As I swung her around, trying to sing, I felt a nervous laugh well up, I tend to laugh when I am nervous.

Standing there, grimacing, with my 15-month old thrashing around upside down, kicking and screaming, I had a moment of clarity. One of those moments where you can see yourself and you are in full and total control of your actions and emotions.

I took a moment to wonder why I was nervous.

Was I nervous because I wonder if I am doing the right thing? All along this sleep process I have been listening to the advice of other attached parents. The basic idea is that most kids who need to sleep with a breast in the mouth or right up next to you with full body contact, is that they will eventually outgrow it and begin to sleep longer and easier.

Other parents have told me this and they tell you all kinds of ways to deal with it. Watch TV with close captioning on, use an iPod Touch (which I have), bring your laptop to bed with you, take turns with your partner, keep the light on and read, keep your kid up until you are ready to go to bed, get an Amby bed (it's a cradle-type contraption that sways).

All of these are good ideas, and I have used some of them over the past 15 months.

But as I stood there swaying and holding my thrashing child, I knew that continuing this way of life was not an option for me. I feel resentful and impatient when I am lying in bed with her when I am not tired, when I have other things to do. I know I will be a better mom to her during the day if I can get some things accomplished while she sleeping. I will be more attentive and happier. Therefore, she will be happier.

And I knew that Annika would be okay if I did this now, even though it would not have been okay before. She might be angry, but she will not feel scared or lonely. She knows that I will come to her when she cries out. I have told her what the plan is. She understands me. I am not always sure on what level, but she understands. So, she might be unhappy about it, but she is not confused, or losing trust, or feeling unheard. She's just pissed. I can deal with that.

Even though I listened to all these other parents and their advice for the past 15 months there was always this little voice inside my head that said, "They are wrong. You know what's best for you and Annika."

So maybe, I wondered, am I nervous because I am finally listening to myself? It's something I've always struggled with.

Despite myself, I have often ignored my inner voice. That has gotten me into a lot of trouble over the years.

So, nervously, I did what I knew was right for our family.

After a few minutes of struggling, I took her out into the kitchen, wiped her face and offered her a drink of water, which she angrily turned down.

We went back into the bedroom. As I approached the bed, she laid her head on my chest asking for comfort. I put my hand on the back of head and kissed her. Then we laid down, and I nursed her to sleep.

She has now been sleeping for almost an hour. Alone. Without a breast in her mouth.

Weaning the human pacifier, night one

Toyin and I had a long talk tonight and we have decided, or rather, I decided and he agreed to go along with it, that enough is enough. It is time for me to reclaim some consistent me time.

I have read plenty about regular weaning and night weaning, but I haven't ever read much about what to do when your toddler is addicted to suckling your breast while she sleeps.

I have no inclination to night wean yet. But for some reason, that seemed to be the only option, until I realized what it was that I wanted the most was not so much to not get woken up in the middle of the night, but to be able to sleep next to my child WITHOUT my boob in her mouth. And most of all, what I want is to be able to put Annika to sleep and then get up and be an adult for a few hours.

When this all started around six months of age, I thought it was a phase. That's what everyone told me. "Oh, it will only last while she's teething. She'll hit her developmental milestone and she'll go back to sleeping the way she used to."

Well, here it is nine months later and she's teethed and not teethed, milestones have come and gone, and she's still doing it.

It is a habit now, a habit I need to break.

Over the past few months in particular I have spent a lot of time thinking about this. When she was coming up on a year, I figured I could wait it out. Everyone said that babies start sleeping better after they start to walk and after they turn a year old.

Maybe some babies do, but mine hasn't.

We decided to start the process tomorrow night, which is a Friday. But tonight, as I laid down with her, she fell asleep and I was able to get up. Five minutes later she was crying. I knew what I was in for. She was going to take my breast in her mouth, latch on, wrap her hand around my breast, sling her leg over mine and settle in for the night.

NOOOO, my brain screamed. NOT AGAIN! I MUST BE FREE!

So I went in, nursed her and sang for a few minutes and then pulled her off my breast. She protested with a screech and stiff body, then settled back to my breast waiting for what she usually happens. Me offering the breast.

This time I said no.

I picked her up and began to sway and sing.

Oh no, no mother. She wanted none of that. For a few minutes she screamed, arching her back, pushing away from me all at the same time leaning her head in toward my breast. This went on for a few minutes. Then we left the room to clean her snotty nose and give her a drink of water.

I did this four times before she finally gave in and nursed all the way to sleep. The last round of it, she threw herself around the bed, stiffening up and screaming and running for the door several times before she finally allowed me to take her in my arms once more and give her the comfort she was looking for.

The whole process took about and hour and half. I'm hoping it's less tomorrow.

Awakening from life as a human pacifier

Lately I've been feeling like Robert De Niro in that movie, Awakenings, where he plays a guy who has been catatonic from encephalitis since he was a boy. I haven't been slack-jawed and drooling for like 30 years, only for the better part of 15 months as I laid in bed with Annika for naps and bedtime -- staring at the ceiling, reading, thinking, daydreaming, planning my escape -- so she could nurse. And nurse. And nurse.

Lately, I have been able to sneak away occasionally when Annika falls asleep, which has been nearly impossible for the past eight months.

I remember the moment my career as a human pacifier began.

The moment is etched in my brain as clear as day because at that moment, I wondered if I was making a huge mistake. I still don't know for sure.

Annika was only a couple of weeks old. I was nursing her to sleep one night and as she fell to sleep, I took my finger, slid it into the side of her mouth and popped her off of my breast. She stayed asleep, but new mommy guilt set in immediately. What had I just done? I was new enough to attachment parenting that I didn't quite understand all of the semantics. I suppose I took the "attachment" part quite literally.

So anyhow, as I sat in my rocking chair, hormones flowing, considering that I had quite literally forced my newborn away from my breast, panicked thoughts raced through my brain: What if she really needs to continue suckling? What if she feels rejected? What if something innate in her HAS JUST DIED because I physically extracted her away from me?

Unanswered questions raced, guilt surged, panic flowed, I did what seemed rational to me -- at the time. I carefully and tenderly attached my sleeping infant back onto my breast.

Now, almost 15 months later, in my head, I laugh dejectedly at this poor misguided woman. How I wish I could go back to that evening and tell her, "Hey, your kid is asleep, you did what you were supposed to do. Now get up as quietly as you can and deposit the child into the bed."

I spent the first three or four months of Annika's life not trying to un-attach her while she slept during the day.

I wonder -- now -- if I created that nursing monster, the child who seems to think my breast is her own personal chew toy.

Back then, I did realize though, that I needed SOME time to myself without a nursing baby attached to my breast, so at night I'd nurse her to sleep then slip away for a blissful two or three hours on some nights. Little did I know that my griping about THAT was foolish, foolish, foolish. How I wish, Oh HOW I WISH, she would sleep that long alone now.

These days I'm lucky if I get 45 minutes. And even that is an improvement over the chunk of six months to a year. I couldn't get up. She'd wake up immediately if I moved to get out of the bed. Some days she would not sleep at all without my breast firmly attached to the inside of her little mouth.

So, yeah, I'm finally able to move about the cabin. It feels nice, and like Robert De Niro, I don't know how long it's going to last and I wonder if I'll ever be normal again.