No More La-La

     A few days ago, we went cold turkey on breastfeeding.  My plan to wean Clara slowly was no longer working.  When I would drop a feeding, she'd pick one up later in the day.  It was as if she were keeping track somewhere.  Carving notches on the railing of her crib.  Counting on pudgy fingers.

     I was ready to be done.

     We decided before her afternoon nap.  We talked to her a little bit about it.

     "Clara, I'm not going to La-la you today," I said.

     "La-la," she said, nodding, a trace of anxiety in her voice.

     "You're a big girl now, and big girls don't need La-la," Simon said.

     "Mama still loves you very, very much, and I still want to cuddle with you lots," I said.  "I still want to give you lots of hugs."

     "La-la! La-la!" she said again, her voice betraying her level of panic.

     When we brought her up to her crib for her afternoon nap, she started to sob and point to the rocking chair.  "La-la! La-la!"

     I held her and made soothing sounds into her hair.  She clenched her hands around my neck and rocked back and forth and sobbed.

    "She's mourning," Simon said.

    We brought her back downstairs and read "Baby Dear," to her two and a half times while we snuggled.  She cried for a long time before she finally went to sleep.

    That night before bed, she asked about La-la and I told her we weren't doing La-la anymore.  She laid her head on my shoulder and then pointed to her crib.

    "Bed," she said.  She was steeling herself.  She laid down stiffly on her back in her footie jammies.  She seemed stoic except for the corners of her mouth, which sagged a bit.

    "Do you want to hold your baby?" I asked.

    "Yes," she whispered.  Simon brought up the baby doll from the backseat of the car, and she clenched it fiercely against her in one arm.

     "Do you want Scooby?" Simon asked.  She nodded and clenched Scooby in the other arm.

     We gave her a sippy cup full of cold water and made sure both her stuffed dog and rabbit were on location.  Then we stroked her hair and told her we loved her and left.  She didn't make a sound, that first night.

     In the morning she asked for La-La.  I brought her downstairs in a blanket and we sat on the couch and snuggled for a minute.  Then I fed her Cheerios while we watched Winnie the Pooh the whole way through.