The first day of lockdown, my son nursed all day long. He was 22 months old. I thought, oh no.
I had envisioned breastfeeding for a year—18 months at the most. This timeline was partly influenced by the release of a book I co-authored, expected in mid-2020, which meant I would be touring without my son for several days at a time. Additionally, breastfeeding can be quite demanding, and I wanted to know when I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.
However, by the time he turned one, it was clear my little one wasn’t ready to stop, and strangely, neither was I. By then, he was eating solid foods, so “mama milk” wasn’t a constant demand. Yet, my perspective on breastfeeding transformed through the daily experience. At a year, I began to see breastfeeding not as a hindrance to my ambitions, but as a shared journey—a powerful and even political act. I was utilizing my body to provide nourishment! I was making a bold reproductive choice multiple times a day, one that felt counter to societal expectations!
Yet, by 22 months, I found myself yearning for a night away. I glanced at my long-expired edibles with longing. I fantasized about sleeping in—truly sleeping in—without a milk-related interruption when my son woke up at 6 am.
Months before the shelter-in-place orders started, I had tentatively begun the weaning process. One morning, he even woke up and forgot to ask for milk, stirring a whirlwind of emotions in me. I called a friend who was a doula and declared, “I think he’s actually starting to wean himself!” to which she replied, “Congratudolences!”
Then the pandemic struck. Our usual routine, where my toddler spent two days a week at daycare and three with my parents, was disrupted. He was now home all the time, and all he wanted to do was nurse, nurse, nurse.
During that first week, he was ecstatic.
“Want to play with blocks?”
“No! I wanna nurse!”
“How about a bath?”
“Bath is silly! Nursing, nursing!”
“Maybe… let’s look out the window?”
“I don’t like windows! Nuuuurrrrssse!!!”
In the following months, he slipped back into familiar habits—nursing for comfort, rest, and solace. This was partly due to our constant presence at home together. I’m sure it was also because there were fewer appealing distractions, especially in those early weeks when we were unsure about even going for a walk, and—being under two—he couldn’t keep a mask on without trying to eat it.
I felt hopeless. While I recognized the many positives of breastfeeding a toddler and appreciated my privilege to choose it; numerous parents can’t. I had read that children often naturally wean between the ages of two and four. I know many incredible individuals who breastfed their kids for years. But how could I go on this book tour I had aspired to since before I became a mother? How could I accomplish anything while working from home with a child constantly attached to me? And those edibles! When would I finally experience the bliss of enjoying them?
Yet, my reasons for weaning began to dissipate. It was clear that the 2020 book tour would be virtual. I learned how to isolate myself in a separate room while working so my child wouldn’t get any ideas about “mama milk.” Eventually, I figured out how to say, “You can’t nurse now, but you can nurse later!” in such a cheerful way that he would calm down and wait a couple of hours. The edibles alone didn’t seem like a strong enough reason to cut him off, especially since nursing releases its own delightful chemicals into your system. Did I really want to trade all that rich oxytocin for THC?
Moreover, I discovered that breastfeeding was beneficial during our days stuck at home. It became a method for soothing, calming, preparing for naps, and most importantly, for those moments when I needed to check my phone for a bit while he nursed. Nursing wasn’t just a chore or a comfort; it was a practical strategy for navigating the pandemic.
As I adjusted to the reality that we might be nursing for longer than I had originally planned, my worries about when he should wean faded. There was no book tour, no work conflicts, and thus, no urgency to stop as long as we both continued to make that choice. On days when I wasn’t working, I started to look forward to his requests to nurse; amidst the chaos of the universe, our nursing sessions became genuine moments of peace. It’s hard to get up while nursing, so if you’re able, you might as well allow yourself to relax. Eventually, I even decreased the frequency of checking my phone behind his head.
Breastfeeding, in a way, has taught me patience. It’s not that nursing is idle; it’s incredibly demanding! Your body transforms into a production facility, providing nourishment while exhausting you even as you sit still. But the effort is often found in the waiting.
This is true of parenting in general. Some of the most crucial work—monitoring a toddler while they eat to ensure they don’t choke on a blueberry; keeping an eye on them at the beach so they don’t accidentally fall into the water—can be perceived by an outsider as no work at all. Yet, it is fundamental to the role.
During these pandemic times, patience has become even more essential for all of us, parents and non-parents alike. Of course, there’s no comparison between the intense wait for COVID numbers to decline or the anticipation for a vaccine shot and the much lower-stakes wait for a child to finish breastfeeding. But the skill is still relevant. I’ve always struggled with taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, with embracing stillness. My toddler’s ongoing nursing has provided me with daily lessons in the art of waiting.
Now, more than a year has gone by since I halted my weaning efforts, and my child’s third birthday is on the horizon. Am I going to stop? Set a cutoff date? Will he naturally lose interest when he starts preschool, when waiting and stillness cease to be such integral parts of our lives? No idea. But for now, I’ll take a cue from the past year and remember that I can’t plan everything. I’m going to let these questions simmer, breathe out, and see where waiting takes us.
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Summary:
The author reflects on her initial plans to wean her toddler before he turned two, interrupted by the pandemic. As she navigates lockdown life, she discovers that breastfeeding becomes a source of comfort and practicality during uncertain times. The article explores themes of patience, the evolving nature of motherhood, and the unexpected joys found in continuing to breastfeed amidst challenges.