I had wondered how this story ended...I guess I figured that, when it was time, it would be clear to us when the pacifier days were over.
And it happened this past weekend while in Andorra..
Evan had picked up her pacifier while we were in the hotel room, and popped it in his mouth running around to get our attention. He never does this, and when I noticed he was loudly gnawing on the thing, I grabbed it out of his mouth. That night, and for the rest of the weekend, I noticed dinkie was making a racket as Mia sucked away. I figured it was because we were all sharing a hotel room, and we weren't used to hearing it so closely...but....on closer look, I saw that the nipple part had two cracks in it. Likely from Evan chewing on it, but who knows. That giraffe has been in a mouth for two years now, it was bound to wear out sooner or later. On the 3hr drive home, after noticing sleeping Mia was completely covered in drool in her car seat from the stupid dinkie losing its suction, Chris and I agreed...it was time. Dinkie was broken, and in addition to being a choking hazard at this point with all the cracks, we knew we couldn't replace it. As I had mentioned before , Mia won't accept a replacement as this point in her life (we had even tried to introduce an identical Wubbanub giraffe match during our visit to the US in August, she wanted NOTHING to do it, going as far as crying and throwing it across the room at its very sight). The last dink standing was fatally wounded. We needed to pull the plug.
After we got home, I started to have second thoughts...maybe we didn't need to do this TONIGHT...until Chris grabbed the beloved giraffe, and said, "You ready?"
"Uh, I'm not sure----"
*SNIP*
Off came the entire nipple. I won't lie, it was kind of like a gun shot. For the past two years, especially the last 6 months, I have guarded this little piece of cotton and plastic with my life. Constantly looking to see if it was still in the stroller, still in the car, still in her hand, still in her mouth...searching for it before bed, worrying if needed a wash or not...It was like working as a private body guard, then suddenly given the job of assassinating the same person you had sworn to protect.
After we cut off the nipple, we handed it to her, and Chris hugged me as we watched and I fought back tears (I'm a wuss).
She tried to put it in her mouth a few times, then pulled it out, confused, and stared at it.
"Dinkie's broken. Dinkie's broken." she repeated, over and over.
She wasn't upset, per se. I'd say she was equal parts shocked and confused.
There were no tears, just wide eyes, and declarations of the new turn of events. All in all, it seemed I was the one who took it the hardest. And I was even shocked when, after only 15-20 minutes of extra stories and soothing, she was fast asleep in her crib, for the first time in her life, without a pacifier at bedtime.
That was the calm before the storm.
9pm hit, and she was up screaming bloody murder. Nothing we did helped, and together Chris and I sat by her crib, rubbing her back trying to soothe her as she mourned the loss of her friend.
"Diiiiinkie's broooooken....Diiiiiinkie's brooooken..." she sobbed.
Until...finally.... finally...she fell back to sleep.
After this heart wrenching episode, I broke one of my cardinal rules. I started googling. Never google parenting stuff. No good comes of this.
Apparently, taking away the pacifier cold turkey is traumatizing. Apparently you are supposed to slowly snip away parts of the pacifier, or start by limiting it to certain times of day. Or make believe little fairies took it. Or just let her have it until she is 10. Why didn't I plan this better? My heart ached...I just ripped away her happy place. And I couldn't take it back.
Unfortunately, I've never been a slow drip kind of a girl. I dive in a pool. When I make up my mind, I pull the trigger, I don't hem and haw.
The next morning, I kept trying to offering the stuffed animal portion of dinkie, hoping she would befriend him and find comfort in his presence alone, but she was DONE. If he couldn't deliver what she wanted, she wanted nothing to do with him. So we had a good bye party. I told her, since he was broken, we should tell him good-bye, and send him where he could live with other broken dinkies (my weak attempt at the little fairy scenario I think?). Evan informed me dinkie should be sent back to his mom and dad, which seemed reasonable. Regardless, all this seemed to resonate with Mia, so she hugged him, kissed him, and put him in a bag to send away. We said good-bye...and I think it really helped, because she seems to be a lot more at peace, and has rarely talked about him since. Only around bedtimes, and after she wakes up.
Anyway, I have to say. I am pleasantly surprised, and very proud of my girl since dinkie's departure. Don't get me wrong, I'm still wracked with guilt, and wonder if my abrupt decision has now caused her permanent mental damage...that one day she will be laying on the proverbial therapists chair trying to figure out where her issues with trust came from... (these thoughts cross my mind too often)...that somehow I've robbed her of the biggest joy of her life thus far.
But the changes I've seen in her in just the few short days of being dinkie free have reassured me. Never mind the fact that her front teeth now actually have a fighting chance to, um, descend. She is talking up a STORM. It was almost as if the binkie was some kind of sedative for her...keeping her on mute. But now that dink is out of the picture, she is more expressive. In a good way. She somehow seems more animated, using sentences describing everything she sees, and finding comfort in other more demonstrative ways. Like hugging and kissing her dollies. And sitting for extended periods of time petting the dog, and snuggling her blankets. And maybe I'm just making this up, because I'm clinging to the positives in all of this, but it really seems as though she has gained some confidence knowing she doesn't need an object to make her happy. Yes, her main comfort item is now gone, but that isn't to say she will never be comforted again...she is surrounded by people and objects there to make her smile.
The sleep issue is an issue, but to be honest, it is always an issue with her. If the wind blows in the wrong direction, she has sleep issues. For now, immediately post dink, it takes her a while to be reassured enough to slowly drift to sleep...but she does. She does it. It still amazes me, and every day gets easier for her. And I have to say, I love staring at her while she sleeps now. You can actually see her beautiful face, peaceful and still, arms folded across her chest relaxed.
So that's it. Maybe it's not a big deal is most people's books, but it is a big deal around here. My baby is not a baby anymore, and as we fast approach her 2nd birthday in less than a week, I am seeing my little girl with new eyes. I'm so proud of her.
No comments:
Post a Comment