This Is Our Everyday: Why I’m Still Nursing My Toddler

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I’ve encountered a bit of everything when it comes to long-term breastfeeding.

• “Stop nursing when he can ask for it!”
• “After a certain age, it’s just for the mom’s benefit, not the child’s.”
• “He’ll never learn to be independent.”
• “You need to stop as soon as he gets teeth.”
• “Inappropriate!”
• “He’s too big; only babies breastfeed.”
• “It’s just plain gross.”

And, oh boy, it can get way worse than that!

But let me clarify: this isn’t a rebuttal to any of those opinions. Honestly, I don’t have the energy or desire to debate.

This is simply about my journey with my son, who is now two and a quarter years old, and what nursing means for us.

Just the other day, he didn’t nurse as often as he typically does, and when he finally latched on, my other breast leaked right through my shirt—a throwback to the early newborn days. It’s a reminder of how much breastfeeding evolves over time.

I’m far from the leaky, milky mess I once was. My breasts have softened, and I can now sleep on my stomach. I’ve ditched the nursing bras, and my body is increasingly my own again.

Sometimes, he simply wants to snuggle when he wakes up in the middle of the night, and other times, he opts for a snack in the afternoon instead of our usual nursing session. Though it might take a while before he completely weans, I can sense the subtle changes happening.

I cherish these intimate moments we share, nursing together, and it brings a little pang of sadness to see them gradually fade. Here are my reasons for continuing to breastfeed:

• I nurse him because his big, hazel eyes lock onto mine for a delightful 10 minutes on a dreary afternoon.
• I nurse him because he curls his soft, buttery body into my lap and kicks his legs playfully.
• I nurse him because I also nursed his older brother, and I see how he needs me less and less each day (but some days, it feels like more). I miss the days of his little body curled up against mine.
• I nurse him because I fondly recall watching my mother nurse my sister while she stroked my mom’s neck—those moments were slow and serene.
• I nurse him because it forces me to take a break and just sit for a while.
• I nurse him because he sweetly asks for “milkies,” and his politeness makes my heart melt.
• I nurse him because the oxytocin rush fills me with joy as he nurses.
• I nurse him because it lets us enjoy lazy mornings in bed and cozy post-nap cuddle sessions.
• I nurse him because it’s an easy way to soothe him to sleep or calm a tantrum before it escalates.
• I nurse him because we both want to continue.
• I nurse him because I understand that our time in this phase is fleeting; his need for nursing will eventually fade.

I won’t claim I love every moment of nursing—let’s be real. In the middle of the night, when he’s pulling my lips and eyelids, keeping me wide awake while everyone else sleeps, I sometimes just want him to stop! But then he drifts off, sighing, and I breathe in his unique scent, and it’s just the two of us in this peaceful moment.

Not everyone needs to nurse their toddler, preschooler, or child, and I totally get that breastfeeding past a certain age doesn’t align with everyone’s parenting style. That’s alright.

But this is what feels right for us, and there are many mothers and children out there who share this experience, more than you might think.

So, we nurse.

Like this:

And like this:

This is our normal, our reasons, our love.