January 23, 2012
Over the weekend we decided to buckle down and wean the baby off breastmilk. We had discussed what the process should look like with our pediatrician earlier that week. “Most kids do fine cold turkey,” he said. Jake and I looked at each other and thought, “those probably aren’t the kids in the 5th percentile for weight who refuse to breastfeed.”
And boy were we right.
To no surprise Gwyneth refuses whole milk. We learned this when she was given tastes throughout the week leading up to the “milkocaplyse.” She takes a sip, gives it time enough to linger in her mouth only to realize that she has been tricked. A look of disgust and overdramatic gagging and the apparatus with which the imposter was delivered is tossed aside.
So we decided she’d have to get used to it whether she likes it or not. We rolled up our sleeves and gave it everything we’ve got. We used every single different sippy cup, straw cup, bottle and cup in our ammo. We tried adding banana and vanilla extract to it, we even gave her some 1%. By the end of the day we gave in and provided her with the nectar of the gods, a sippy cup filled with warmed breastmilk.
To which she refused.
She wasn’t about to be fooled again into drinking some cow’s milk bullcrap.
And so, we all went to bed defeated. Word on the street is that the process can take weeks. Have you ever tried googling “how to wean your baby off breastmilk?” Don’t, it’s not helpful and it just makes you feel like a bad parent for not wanting to breastfeed your child for entirely too long. All I know is that the poor thing won’t have a choice in a few day’s or week’s time.
But we will soldier on and bookmark this in our parenting adventure/torment documentary we’re so grateful to be a part of. And I’m sure one glorious day Gwyneth will get the hint that her mother won’t be making her milk any longer. I just hope it’s sooner than later.