Parenting
By Lila Thompson
Updated: August 20, 2023
Originally Published: June 11, 2023
My daughter decided to stop breastfeeding. “Quitting is not cool,” I told her, but she seemed unfazed. Instead, she scampered off to her play mat, tossing her bird toy in my direction for the third consecutive night.
In my 32 years of life, I never thought I’d be rejected like this. Admittedly, it stung my pride a tad. Sure, they’re not perfect, but I thought they were decent enough! And wasn’t this weaning process supposed to be my call? Regardless, her message was crystal clear: she was ready to move on. If she was done, then so was I. Seventeen months of breastfeeding is quite a stretch!
Upon realizing this, my initial thought was: FREEDOM!!! The days of dependency were over! My body was mine again, and I could skip out of the house for an entire Saturday without a worry, gleefully shouting to my husband, “She’s your responsibility for the day! Good luck!” Mooohooohahahaha! No more nursing tops or missing out on day-drinking!
But just to clarify – when babies decide they’re done with breastfeeding, they’re usually really done, right? I just want to confirm so I don’t get any unexpected surprises. I wouldn’t miss breastfeeding one bit, so let’s not get it twisted here. Just checking for a friend!
I typically don’t mention that we were still breastfeeding because, honestly, it doesn’t matter how we choose to feed our little ones, as long as they’re nourished. I was just doing what worked for us. However, when asked (and trust me, many people do), I would respond honestly: yes, we were still nursing.
This brought one of two distinct reactions: either admiration with, “Wow, that’s impressive!” or the judgmental look of, “What’s wrong with you?” followed by, “When do you plan to stop?” Well, the time has finally come: she’s officially STOPPED!
And honestly, I can’t find a reason to be upset about it. That would just be absurd, right? I never had a definitive end date for breastfeeding, much to the annoyance of those who inquired. I had initially set a modest goal of six months before my daughter arrived; back then, it felt like I was aiming for the impossible. Six months seemed like an eternity, especially when my nipples felt like they were on fire. I thought those who managed it were either crazy or saints – or maybe both. Over time, I realized they were just doing what suited them.
Reflecting on my journey, I now believe the phrase “it’s always darkest before the dawn” could have been a tribute to my sore nipples. Once I endured the “this is the worst pain ever!” phase, breastfeeding became, dare I say, easy. So easy, in fact, I got a little lazy about it.
But I’m absolutely fine with it being over. Seventeen months! I should throw myself a party because I’m overjoyed! Yes, I’m truly happy. I have my body back!
Yet, it would’ve been nice if she had given me a heads up, so I could have savored our last nursing session or shed at least one tear of protest. But hey, I’m thrilled! And don’t get me started on pumping. About a year ago, I stowed away the pump because, simply put, pumping is a pain. The sound of that machine was hardly the most romantic of noises. I realized that since I was my daughter’s primary caregiver, I was only pumping so that my husband or visitors could feed her occasionally. This was nice but also a bit ridiculous when I could just nurse her directly. Once I put my pump away, it felt like I was cheating. When people asked how I was still breastfeeding, my answer was simple: how could I not?
This transition has been a breeze! She doesn’t seem to miss it at all. I’m so fortunate! She’s not acting out or trying to nurse again. No tears from her—well, at least not from her. What? Who’s crying? Not me! I’m just thrilled about this change. Can I borrow a tissue? And did I mention how pleased I am with this?
She was never emotionally attached to nursing, either, so I wasn’t blindsided. From the beginning, she treated nursing like a business: quick milk, then back to playtime. No lingering for comfort or security. Her detachment made it easier for me to let go, as I was simply fulfilling my side of the agreement.
And now, the agreement has ended. She made it clear she won’t be renewing her contract with my milk delivery service. She has every right to do so—it’s right there in the fine print!
Interestingly, I just found out I’m pregnant again. I’ve heard this can alter the flavor of a mother’s milk, which might explain her sudden disinterest. Perhaps giving up nursing was her first act of protest. But honestly, all that matters is that it was her choice.
And guess what? I’m totally fine with it! Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I’m OK! What’s that? Oh, just my mascara running for no reason. Must be the pregnancy hormones—read somewhere that’s a thing!
Over the past few nights, we’ve settled into a new bedtime routine: bath, book, bed. She’s growing up! Her decision to stop nursing is a sign that she’s becoming more independent, making her own choices. And yes, I’m perfectly okay with it! Did I mention that already?
Oh, I’m so grateful! I could just lie here and cry out of joy. This is truly the best outcome for both of us. But one thing is certain: breaking up is tough!
In summary, my daughter’s decision to stop breastfeeding was unexpected but liberating. While I initially experienced mixed emotions, I’ve come to embrace this new chapter as she grows into her own person.
Keyphrase: breastfeeding transition
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