The human pacifier

This post is going to be all about nursing, breast-feeding, boobs, breasts ... you get it.  So, if you aren't interested in reading about how very unsuccessful I have been in weaning my 20-month old, stop reading now.  Well, I warned you.

I am a huge breast-feeding advocate.  Okay, not so huge that I push my breast-feeding ways onto others or that I've joined the local La Leche League, but I really believe that there is something so incredibly special about nursing.  Not to mention it's cheap and it's a good excuse to hold your baby.  I know that nursing is not for everyone and I also know that many women have difficulties nursing.  I get that and I think everyone has to make their own choices when it comes to feeding their babies.  This post isn't about the politics, if I daresay that, of breastfeeding or formula-feeding. 

This post is about my baby's addiction to nursing. 

I have nursed all three of the babies I have birthed.  I easily weaned Jadyn when he was about a year old.  It seemed so natural to wean him, but maybe I just remember it that way.  Janessa was another story.  She nursed until she was about 2 and she also needed what I have lovingly come to refer to as boob rehab.  She, however, was forced to stop nursing for a few weeks when she was about 10 months old because I had multiple surgeries for difficult kidney stones and, come to find out, anesthesia is no good for nursing babies.  She started nursing again and it seemed with more fervor than ever.  I always thought being abruptly forced to quit nursing was a bit traumatic for her.

But, with my little Will, I have literally become a human pacifier.  He is quite past needing the nourishment that comes from what little milk I feel like I'm producing.  In fact, he will now reach into my shirt, while saying, "boobie," and proceed to try and nurse.  This is quite embarrassing when we're in public or when we have company over. 

And, the thing is, I am READY to wean him.  I know that he is my last baby, but I am not trying to hold on.  I have thoroughly enjoyed nursing him, but for the life of me, this child will not wean.  It is like he is dying when I do not give in to his demands for the boob. 

My husband thinks that this giant child still nursing from my chest is quite ridiculous and has renamed our household Africa because there are boobs flying just as freely in our home as there are in a National Geographic spread on African tribal women.  My children also think little Will has gone too far and they are  constantly telling him to step away from the boob.  I'm just not sure I have it in me to battle this child who seems to need just a few moments of nursing to be fine.  I've tried giving him a pacifier.  He spits that right out.  I've even tried teaching him how to suck a finger or thumb.  He doesn't like that.  A blankie and stuffed animal definitely don't do the trick.  Nothing else seems to satisfy. 

I have jokingly wondered if he will go to pre-school still needing to nurse.  Now I wonder if that will actually come true.  I have to be gone for four days in February.  I'm hoping that will do the trick.  If not, if you ever see us out in public and my toddler is pulling at my shirt, you will know why.  I am a human pacifier.