Tag Archives: weaning

Setting Limits Around Nursing in the Morning

Max is Too CoolI wanted more flexibility with my 4-year-old. He had been acting with increasing rigidity throughout our day. So, I started to think of all the areas in which he had a lot of emotionally charged and demanding behavior, where setting limits might actually help him. Bingo! His feelings about nursing first thing in the morning were very strong. He had to have it first thing, no ifs ands or buts about it.

It was time to wean him. I knew this would release stored-up feelings for him and me. I was excited to take on this emotional project and I was in a good place to set a loving, gentle, clear-minded limit with him.

I began to talk about my plan with my son. I told him that in 4 more days we were going to stop nursing in the morning. I would remind him every morning about what was to come. He would protest and say, “No!”

I would listen and say, “I know it’s hard to stop things that you love, it’ll be hard for me too. I’m sad about not nursing anymore, it’s hard.” I even remember crying a bit about it myself, right there with him. I loved our nursing in the morning and all that we shared during that special time.

The night before our first morning without nursing, I gently set the limit, “ Now, tomorrow morning we won’t be nursing.” He said okay, and to sleep he went. The next morning he woke up and reached for my breast first thing. I softly put my hand on his and said, “We’re not going to nurse in the morning anymore.”

He was not happy, and began to cry, scream, and beg to nurse. I Staylistened with him and reassured him that I was there, he was safe, and I loved him. This went on for about 15 or 20 minutes, and then he was ready to move on with our day. “Phew,” I thought, “that went well!” I was able to be warm and loving, and I felt very clear and good about my choice to set limits on that nursing. I knew it was time.

Every evening before we fell asleep I would remind my son about not nursing in the morning, and each morning he would cry for a few minutes and be done. The crying in the morning only lasted a couple of days. I was amazed! I thought it would have been much more difficult, but I guess that one big cry was enough to release important feelings and allow him to move on.

I noticed a big difference in my son afterward! He was more relaxed, flexible and happy as he went through his days. “This,” I thought, “is amazing! Give me more of this!” I was encouraged to think of other issues my son had an emotional charge about, where some gentle limits would also be helpful.

- Christine Ashe., Instructor in Training

You can learn more about Parenting by Connection in the Listening to Children booklet set.

Weaning from Night Nursing: How We Made it Through the Night

The time had come to wean my healthy toddler from night nursing. He was down to just a couple of times of nursing at night, but it was still disruptive for all of us.  No one was sleeping well.

I had napped during the day and had mentioned to my son what the plan was. I was ready to begin that night.

When he awoke to nurse, I held him in my arms instead, and used Staylistening to care for him.  I said, “I’m sorry, Honey.  I love you, but no more nursing tonight.  ”

He cried out his anguish and longing.  I held him and listened. “I’m right here. I love you. I am changing things, you’re right. I know it’s hard.”  I said. I held him and walked with him while he sobbed his little heart out.  It was heartbreaking.

He seemed confused and almost panicky. I held him and walked with him.  “It’s a very big change for us.  I’m right here. Right here with you. We’ll nurse tomorrow, but not tonight. I love you.  We’re ok.”  I told him.

His cries went on and on into the night.  We were up and down.  Asleep, then awake again. He became desperate.  He panicked. He mourned. He seemed so confused. His crying felt almost unbearable at times.  I felt scared.  It seemed to never end.  I felt so powerful and that scared me, too. But I was determined to offer my power in the form of confidence.

I had grappled deeply with the awesome power to give or withhold the most primitive, basic longing of a child—to connect through nursing.

During the 3-4am awake time, I was reassuring both him and myself, “We’ll make it through this sad time together.  I’m sorry this is so hard.  I love you so much. You are just right, and I am right here with you.”  I told him.

These nights felt endless.  They were hard, hard work.  The fatigue made the grief heavier, and vice versa. We were both sad to say goodbye to this time in our relationship.

We had three or four nights of heavy crying and sleeplessness.  I kept listening and continued offering confident reassurance.  I would never have asked him to go through it alone.  Even though I held him, and we walked, and slept together and stayed close in other ways, I worried that I was a bad mom by withholding myself physically.

I talked about my feelings with my husband during the days.  I cried hard.  I talked about how scary it is to feel so powerful.  “I have the power to hurt him. I have the power to give or withhold. I hope this isn’t hurting him. I don’t know if we’ll be OK. Am I a sadistic person by stopping nursing and being the cause of these intense feelings of despair for him?”  I asked my husband.

By talking with my husband during the days, I realized that I felt conflicted about how much power I’d felt in my relationship with my own mother, as a child.  I had been given too much power to make her feel better or worse, and that job was very confusing and overwhelming as a child.

After those conversations, I felt better about continuing to wean.  I still have some lingering regrets about how sad and anxious I felt about weaning by kids.  If I had felt more solid and secure within myself, I’m sure it would have been easier on my son during those long nights of weaning.  The fact that I wasn’t able to feel calmer and more confident must have made it harder for him to get through it.   But we made it.

We felt very close during the days that followed the nighttime weaning, and we feel close now.  We connected and bonded deeply through those nights.  We went through that mourning process together and enjoy a deep and honest connection to this day.

Join Beth Ohanneson in her upcoming class, beginning April 13.