I Dry-Nurse My Granddaughter, and I Don’t Care What You Think

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My granddaughter was in distress, and I felt utterly helpless. Despite raising four children and step-parenting four more, I suddenly found myself at a loss. Her cries were so intense that they triggered my one-year-old grandson’s tears, turning our household into a cacophony of wails. Just moments earlier, everything seemed fine, but now dinner was on the stove, the TV was blaring cartoons, and nothing calmed the chaos.

My family dynamics are unique; when my eldest daughter turned 21, I welcomed my youngest daughter into the world. Eleven months later, my granddaughter arrived. This close age gap has its perks—I’m always excited to splurge on clothes and toys, knowing they’ll eventually be passed down. My daughter and I share the same pediatrician and participate in the same parenting group, and our little ones even have matching car seats.

However, there was one significant difference: none of my children had experienced colic. So when my daughter, Lily, sought advice, I had little to offer. She consulted the doctor, pharmacists, and fellow moms. They tried everything—gripe water, tummy time, swaddling, white noise—and every type of pacifier available, but nothing worked. One evening, I received a panicked call from her. Overwhelmed and exhausted, she confessed she hadn’t showered in days and had only managed 20-minute naps because my granddaughter refused to sleep longer. Realizing they both needed a break, I offered to take the baby for the night.

Lily hesitated. “Mom, she won’t take a bottle, and I don’t have any milk stored.”

Fast forward a couple of months, and Lily was preparing to return to work. Naturally, I offered to babysit. On her first day back, she came armed with an overstuffed diaper bag and an abundance of pumped milk. While she fretted about putting me out, I reassured her that I was excited to spend time with my granddaughter. After heartfelt hugs and kisses, she left for her shift.

Suddenly, I found myself juggling two crying babies—one on each hip. As I frantically grabbed the Bjorn to strap my granddaughter in, my grandson joined the chorus of cries. Just as I thought I might be managing, the smoke alarm blared, adding to the confusion and alerting the neighbors. In my frantic attempt to clear the smoke, I realized I was crying, feeling completely out of my depth. I had underestimated how challenging this would be.

With my head hanging low, I moved down the hall, singing the “ABC Song” to calm both babies and myself. That’s when I spotted my husband standing in the doorway, looking concerned. He gently took my grandson from my arms and disappeared into the bedroom.

Taking a moment to regroup, I sat on the couch, cradling my granddaughter. She started to root around, and even though I hadn’t nursed in months, my instincts kicked in. Without overthinking it, I offered her my breast, and much to my surprise, she latched on. Within minutes, she drifted off to sleep.

My husband returned and was taken aback by the sight of our granddaughter peacefully nursing. He asked if it was acceptable, and I honestly couldn’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t be. All my kids had comfort-nursed, and I was accustomed to being a human pacifier. I knew Lily would appreciate any way I could soothe her baby.

When Lily came to retrieve her, I shared the entire story, and we laughed together. “I don’t mind if you don’t,” she said. I genuinely didn’t mind.

Since then, I have cared for my granddaughter several times, and each time, she has sought out that comfort. While some may find this practice controversial, I truly don’t care. My love for Lily and my granddaughter drives me to do whatever it takes to support them, even if it means dry-nursing.

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Summary

In this heartfelt account, Grace Thompson shares her experience of stepping in to care for her granddaughter, including the unconventional decision to dry-nurse her. Despite initial challenges and moments of doubt, Grace finds joy in supporting her family through love and nurturing, even in the most unexpected ways.