Actually I should switch that title around.

Aidelmaidel is right; I did some preparation to nurse the baby that was coming to us pre-Pennie. But after our match/unmatch, I felt like preparing for it was making me too focused on the idea of the baby being mine, which felt wrong to me. After Madison arrived, it seemed like building a nursing relationship with her would come at the cost of her building a relationship with Pennie. Now I never talked to Pennie about this and I don’t know if it was true but if even talking to her about it seemed too delicate, surely actually nursing Madison would be out of line, too.

My one regret is that a friend offered to pump for me and I didn’t take her up on it because I was too overwhelmed. (Pepperpaints/Kristen did get a wee bit of breastmilk over to my house for Maddie.) My take on nursing now is that there is no substitute for breastmilk that is nearly as good but that bottlefeeding can be a pretty darn good substitute for nursing as far as attachment goes.

My feelings about adoptive breastfeeding for other people is to have no feeling whatsoever. Which is to say that I have a lot of different feelings but would prefer to keep them to myself except when I’m having a discussion with someone I know well and they ask. But sometimes not even then.

As to weaning Noah. He weaned seven years ago at around this time, which means I was blogging then but I may not have blogged it. I’d gotten him down to once a day because I was totally burned out on nursing and it was pretty easy to get him down to that (with the exception of night weaning when he was 3 1/2, which was no fun for any of us) so he must have been ready. I don’t even remember how we did it or how it went; weaning was pretty darn easy. And I wouldn’t have been sad about it at all — I was so tired of nursing a great big kid — except that I was hoping for a baby to nurse by then. I do miss nursing (and wearing a baby) but not enough to go and get another kid so I could do either again.

Lillian asked about co-sleeping/transitional objects, too. Technically the transitional object is a inanimate object that the kid attaches to in order to self-soothe while away from parents. So if you’re using the term that way, a parent can’t be a transitional object since you can’t use a parent to transition the kid away from his/her parents.

I didn’t want either of my kids to self-soothe unless they up and chose to do so. I wanted them to lean on us for comfort even if it meant that they had to be rocked down or cuddled every night (and Madison is still there) because I wanted them to save their emotional energy for other developmental leaps.

Now like I said your mileage may vary about this stuff. My inlaws here believe just the opposite. Their kids self-soothe and go to bed by themselves and are sometimes left to cry. And you know what? They’re nice kids who don’t seem to be limping around with broken little spirits despite what the hard-core attachment parenting types may think (and for the start of my parneting career I proudly numbered myself among these sometimes small-minded folks). In fact, the cousins seem like healthy, confident and happy little people and their parents are getting (mostly) a lot more sleep than I did when either of my kids were this age. Still I’m glad we did it (and are doing it) this way because it’s a way that feels right to me especially for Madison who (say the good experts) may have a slightly more difficult way to go because of a different kind of start. But. Kids aren’t lab experiments so none of us really has any proof that there’s a direct route to nurturing happiness. So again — your mileage may vary.

I’ll write more about the specifics I heard in the workshops when I get home. Home!!! Yes, we leave tomorrow! Hallelujah and pass the salt!!!