As I gaze down at my daughter, her tearful eyes brim with emotion, I can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over me. A single tear escapes and trails down her cheek, a precursor to the inevitable flood of tears that follows. She’s exhausted and it’s bedtime, yet she still yearns for the comfort of nursing.
At 17 months, my daughter repeatedly makes the universal milk sign, her little hands opening and closing, almost as if trying to summon milk from thin air. The imagery that once brought to mind serene barnyards and gentle cows now fills me with melancholy. Her hopeful gaze and little hands reaching out remind me of what I feel I can no longer provide. It’s a bittersweet reality.
As a friend recently pointed out, the challenges of weaning are often overlooked. While breastfeeding can be intensely difficult, the emotional toll of transitioning away from it is equally profound. In the beginning, after overcoming the sharp pain of those first nursing weeks and the anxiety of milk supply, I had planned to nurse for six months, then one year, and ultimately settled on two years—hoping my daughter would one day understand when it was time to stop. I felt fortunate to nurse, yet my feelings toward it were complicated. Nursing pads, bras, and covers became a part of my daily routine, but I didn’t find joy in it.
Unexpectedly, I discovered I was pregnant again, a surprise given my previous fertility struggles. In the early days of this pregnancy, despite the discomfort, my nursing routine continued without disruption. However, as the nausea hit and nighttime feedings left me drained, I realized that for the sake of my health and sanity, weaning became essential.
Meanwhile, my friend, who shares a similar path of infertility and has a toddler approaching 24 months, faced the same dilemma. She learned that to begin treatments for a second child, she too would have to wean. It struck me then that regardless of when I weaned—be it at twelve months or twenty—I would likely still feel the same sense of loss. In that moment, I understood that my need for breastfeeding was just as strong as my daughter’s. The thought of stopping altogether brought tears to my eyes.
I cried for the inevitable changes ahead. I wept for the moments we shared—the warmth and comfort of nursing that enveloped us both. As she snuggled against me, it felt like a return to her newborn days, a sweet reminder of the bond we shared. I mourned the stages she had already outgrown and those that were slipping away, each new step into “big girl” territory a reminder of how quickly time passes.
As we navigate this transition, now down to one brief nursing session a day, I strive to embrace the reality that children grow up. Our love, care, and nurturing enable them to embark on new journeys, from preschool to their first crushes, and ultimately into adulthood.
This journey of weaning is as much about letting go as it is about growing. While it is a bittersweet farewell, I cherish the memories we’ve created and look forward to the new chapters that lie ahead. If you’re interested in more insights on home insemination, you can check out our other blog posts here. For additional resources on fertility, this site has some great information.
In summary, weaning is a complex emotional journey that brings forth a mix of sadness and anticipation for what lies ahead. Each phase of motherhood has its challenges, and this transition is no exception. Embracing these changes allows us to celebrate growth, both for ourselves and our children.