they say a c-section prevents that early nursing bond and might make it harder for a newborn baby to learn how to nurse.


they weren’t talking about you.


you were forty-five minutes old the first time i nursed you. you sucked. and sucked. and sucked. you didn’t want to stop. we had the best nurse named meredith. i remember the next day you still wanted to nurse, for hours at a time. i was feeling exhausted and didn’t know what to do. she smiled and said, “well i don’t think we need to worry about this little one getting confused about nursing.” she opened a package with a yellow pacifier and put it in your mouth. you closed your eyes and fell asleep. i breathed a sigh of relief, closed my eyes and fell asleep too.


i have never regretted giving you a pacifier. your personality needed that kind of comfort. you slept through the night at an early age, sucking contently on your pacifier. you sat through church as a baby, sucking contently on your pacifier. you made it very clear that you needed to suck on something to comfort you.


you personalized your pacifier. we called it a “binky” but around a year old you decided it would be called a “mimi.” you settled one one specific brand. we learned to keep “spares” in numerous places (cars, purses, friend’s houses). you would become attached to a specific design (aka the pink pirate) and use that one until it literally disintegrated.


we probably spent your college fortune on pacifiers. i boiled pacifiers on a regular basis trying to keep them sterile. i actually think it kept you from picking up germs because your hands never went in your mouth when we were in public, thanks to your pacifier.


like i said earlier, i have never regretted giving you a pacifier. i am thankful you were able to tell us what you needed.


but baby girl, i have to tell you something. and i wholeheartedly know that you are not excited to hear what i have to say.


your mimi needs to go.


i’ve considered taking it away twenty-five hundred times since you’ve been born.


it’s not because of what others have said. yeah, everyone has an opinion about whether or not you should have a pacifier anymore. but i don’t even care.


the fact of the matter is, i’ve taken all things into consideration and i have come to the conclusion that your mimi has to go.


and it’s not pretty.


i don’t have a method. i’ve tried everything and none of it really seems to be the “magical” trick. and honestly at the rate we are going, i might change my mind tomorrow and give you back your mimi.


but that’s what parenting is, huh? it’s daily trying to make the best possible decisions for your children. and i’m constantly reminded that no one else really knows the entire story.


so i am just going to ignore all the crazy-ness.


drink another cup of coffee.


pray you don’t hate me.


and put yet another bandaid on your five millionth faked injury that you keep getting, trying to get your mimi back.


i love you, princess addy grace cinderella.


hang in there. i’m pretty sure it gets easier.


warning: pacifier overload following. and these are only the ones from my old phone!


Marie Klein Burtt

About Marie Klein Burtt

One Comment

  •  I SO feel your pain, Marie! Sarah will be four in a couple days and we are trying to explain that four year olds don’t have binkies. It is her top love in life and she is convinced that sleep will be impossible without it. I’m more than half convinced myself.

    Good luck, friend!