Weaning Woes

home insemination Kit

Updated: Dec. 2, 2020

Originally Published: Oct. 20, 2015

She gazes up at me, her eyes puffy and filled with tears. I can see one solitary tear trace its way down her cheek. Once the first one falls, it seems, the rest will follow, soaking her T-shirt and leaving her upper lip glistening with sadness. It’s bedtime, and she’s asking to nurse once more.

My 17-month-old daughter signs for milk again, her tiny hands mimicking the motion as if trying to summon milk from thin air. What once conjured images of a busy barnyard—cows lined up, pails brimming with creamy goodness—now just fills me with melancholy. Her tiny hands reaching out, those pleading eyes staring at me when I feel I have nothing left to give, it truly breaks my heart.

“Everyone talks about how challenging breastfeeding can be,” my friend Lisa mentioned in a recent message while we exchanged thoughts on weaning, “but no one really discusses how hard it is to stop.” After I pushed through the initial agonizing weeks of nursing and the fears of not producing enough milk, I had planned to breastfeed my daughter for six months, then a year, and eventually thought I could go up to two years—until I realized that it might be time for her to let go. I felt grateful to have been able to breastfeed at all, but honestly, I didn’t think I enjoyed it that much. The nursing pads, bras, and covers seemed more like a hassle than a joy. But then, unexpectedly, I found myself pregnant again.

In those first delicate weeks of this new pregnancy, I felt fine despite the worries and research. My milk supply was stable, and I was managing the nighttime feedings without too much trouble. But when the morning sickness hit me like a ton of bricks, and the sleepless nights began to take their toll during the day, I knew it was time to consider weaning for my own sanity and health.

Meanwhile, Lisa, who has a similar history with infertility and whose toddler was approaching the milestone of 24 months, was informed that to pursue treatment for another child, she would need to wean too. That’s when it hit me: had I chosen to stop breastfeeding at 12 or 20 months, I would still feel this bittersweet ache—wistful and reluctant, a little heartbroken, even though I never claimed to love breastfeeding. I realized then that I needed nursing just as much as my daughter did. The thought of completely stopping, of drying up for my daughter to make way for my son, brought tears to my eyes.

I cried because everything was about to change. I cried for the bond that nursing gave us, for the warmth and comfort I provided her, swaying together in the rocking chair, the night sounds blending with the soothing ocean waves we played to help her sleep. I cried because I was her only mother, and she would likely always be my only baby girl, transformed back into a newborn each time she latched, her sweet face pressed against me—a reminder of her beginnings, a part of me, now peacefully asleep in my arms where she truly belonged.

I cried for the stages of her life that were slipping away and for the ones I would soon leave behind. Each day, she was becoming more of a “big girl,” moving further from being a baby with each new step and word. I realized that breastfeeding was one of the last tangible connections I had to those early magical months of motherhood.

As we navigate this transition away from nursing, now down to just one brief session a day, I remind myself that this is part of the journey. Babies grow up, and we nurture them so they can thrive in life—attending preschool, learning new skills, and eventually facing the world as confident individuals.

For anyone going through a similar experience, you might find helpful insights in this resource about artificial insemination and check out home insemination kit for additional support. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, you can also find more information in this blog post that discusses the emotional side of weaning.

Summary:

Weaning can be an emotionally challenging journey for both mother and child. As one mother reflects on her experience of breastfeeding and the bittersweet process of letting go, she realizes that the bond formed during those nursing sessions is profound and lasting. The transition away from nursing brings feelings of sadness and nostalgia, as she acknowledges the inevitable changes as her child grows up. It’s a poignant reminder that while motherhood is filled with challenges, it’s also a journey of love and letting go.