The Pacifier Break-up

Grace is a pacifier baby. From the early days of her life, back when the pacifier took up a large percentage of her face, she loved them. They calmed her, soothed her, helped her sleep at night.

They were there for sick days, and road trips. Quiet times and times where Grace needed to be quiet. They were there for good days and bad days, naps at home and naps away. She loved them and we loved them. We suffered through the transition of having her pacifiers only during naps and nighttime. Caving every so often to let her have them at other times too.

Through time we started to lose them. Replacing them every so often as needed. As her teeth came in she started to chew through them, so we had to throw some out. On Friday afternoon she chewed through her very last beebee (what Grace calls her pacifiers). We went to the store and realized that they don't make the kind that she likes anymore. We found one last set in the dark corner of the pacifier rack at Babies R Us, and Aaron and I vowed that this would be the last set we bought for her.

We took her home, had her throw her ruined beebees away, and told her that the last set we bought for her was the very last set she would have.

Two days later, that last set had holes in it.

We ceremoniously pulled the trashcan out. Asked her where ruined beebees go, and she threw them in the trash. We explained over and over that she was now a big girl. Reminded her of what we said about that set being the last set.

I didn't think it would happen so fast but the day had come and we had to follow through. We put her in her crib and she immediately asked "Beebees?" to which we responded "They are all gone." And we turned our backs and walked away.

And she cried. She cried hard.

I was transported to the past remembering vividly the nights that we sleep trained Grace. She cried, I cried, and I thought for sure I would never survive the heartbreak that her cries caused.

Suddenly I realized that it doesn't matter if your baby is a newborn, or if she is 2 and a half, those heartbreaking cries pierce your soul all the same.

Aaron and I took turns every 15 minutes to go in a soothe her. Tell her it would be okay, remind her she was a big girl. To be honest, I don't know if we were going in for her, or going in for us to hold her and remind ourselves that we were doing the right thing. Taking away the one thing that has always been consistent for her.

Being a parent is hard. Watching your baby struggle as you remind them over and over that the struggle will be worth it, all the while wanting nothing more than to make the hurt go away. Even if it is something as simple as taking away a pacifier. Maybe if I can survive the little things, the big things won't seem so rough.

And the pacifier break-up has begun. Wish us luck.