Shower, Strike, or Wean?

On Sunday my friends threw me a baby shower. Although I've heard that Miss Manners says that each mother should only get one shower, I'm in the Dear Abby crowd that believes that people should celebrate however they choose- just as fifth-time brides can wear white, second-time mothers can be honored with showers. In our circle of friends, even if it was a tenth child, I'm sure we would celebrate the occasion. Besides, by that time some new onesies would certainly be in order!

The menu consisted of delicious things like quiche, Krispy Kremes, and Shirley Temples. Isadora, an excellent baker, made my favorite cake combination- yellow with chocolate frosting. The dads entertained the toddlers outside so we could play our corny games in peace. I am convinced that I am a genetic mutant because I actually like shower games of all kinds. They estimated my belly size with crepe paper and rearranged the letters of Jon's and my full names into different possibilities for naming our baby. Kamy has the experience of thousands of birth certificates under her belt; she was the easy winner. The group was very creative. I think we'll stick with the original name we've chosen, although "Norc" does have a certain ring.

Throughout the past year or so, I've been to several blessingways, and have become the unofficial henna-dye expert of our group. As far as I can tell, henna mixing is an inexact science at best, but my lemon juice/sugar/tea tree oil/henna/loving intention concoctions have had good results. I have been excited to have my belly painted by the mindful mothers who have become my indispensable friends and support system. It served as a reality check- finally, it was my turn. I guess I really am going to have a new baby. Soon.

I came home and wrapped my belly in paper towels and plastic wrap, then settled down in bed to nurse Zephyr down for his much-overdue nap (the toddlers also had their share of Krispy Kremes and cake!) He pointed to my alien belly and asked what was happening. I told him, and he said he didn't want to nurse until it was off, and agreed that we would snuggle to sleep instead. He promptly rolled over and fell asleep. Huh. I couldn't remember the last time he fell asleep without nursing, unless he was in the car.

He woke up, and again, didn't want to nurse. He did nurse for a moment when falling asleep that night, then, in the morning, nursed briefly on one side before getting up for the day (previously, he had always insisted on nursing both sides upon falling asleep and awakening.) I was excited to cut off the wrap, shower, and examine the dye results. It was getting itchy. I assumed that once the crinkly plastic wrap was off, he would be back up to his usual six-times-a-day-or-so num-num habit. The henna looked great.

That was Monday morning. It's now Thursday noon, and he hasn't nursed.

I have mixed feelings. Throughout the pregnancy, any time someone asked if I would continue to nurse Zephyr after the baby was born, I would reply, "I'm not sure. It's up to Zephyr to wean when he's ready, and it doesn't seem like that's going to happen- so probably." I read a book on tandem nursing, and, being a La Leche League leader, am very comfortable with the concept. Many of my friends have or are tandem nursing, and I have witnessed that it can be inconvenient or even annoying at times, but I was trying to take it one day at a time, keeping an open mind, and preparing Zephyr for times when he would have to wait his turn. I believed that the inconvenience would be worth the sweet sibling interactions that would take place as they nursed, and I liked the thought of Zephyr getting an extra dose of colostrum during flu season.

Zephyr may not be weaning; he may just be on a nursing strike until the henna wears off. (He writhes around, seeking comfort on my lap, saying, "I want the henna to go away!" when he gets overtired.) If he really is weaning himself, it will certainly be easier to nurse just our new baby when she gets here, without worrying about toddler knees, elbows, and acrobatics getting in the way. But still, my eyes fill with tears when I think, "I didn't even know the last time was the last time." I think about the precise way he would cuddle around my body, the way he could giggle while remaining latched on, and the nursing games we would play. One day last week he asked to nurse, so I hurriedly pulled him on my lap, got him set up, then went back to doing whatever it was I was doing. He reached up and turned my chin with his little paw so that our eyes met. Laughing, I felt grateful for his act of bringing me into the moment. Now I feel even more appreciative of that memory- the way he smiled around the num-num, eyes dancing and mischievous, unspeakable love flowing both ways.

Nursing has been such a significant part of our relationship since the moment of his birth- every day, several times a day, through every stage of his development. But if he's really ready to let it go, then I guess I am, too. We'll need the space for Norc.