Sacred Breastfeeding – My Final Breastfeed

Last night was my last breastfeed of my last baby. Today has been our first day without breastmilk. It’s one of those occasions that is significant on a personal level, though usually remains private.

For me, weaning my last bub off the breast needs some acknowledgement and ritual. I have been trying to work out how to achieve this. Writing and sharing this small piece is a way of respecting this transition by honouring my body and this new stage in my boy’s life, thanking my family and one special friend (guess who!) and marking this moment within our community.

My body has just completed its enormous physical task of creating and nourishing our two radiant babies. Pregnancies, births and breastfeeding place a huge demand on our bodies, and mine has just given all its best nutrients out to our gorgeous children for the last 4 years or so. That deserves a round of applause! Thanks!

And I feel it. As an older mother, this has left me feeling a lot older! I wouldn’t have it any other way though, and I am so thankful that my body was able to safely carry and nurture my little tots.

But then the choice of when to stop breastfeeding can be a tricky one to navigate. So many people want to weigh in on that one! Like all times of transition, it is also an opportunity for reflection and repair. For this, it feels both personal and political.

How can weaning – a private and sometimes slow shift from milk to solids – be political? Because the entire breastfeeding thing is political. For me, breastfeeding has been enabled by privilege, because like for so many other mothers, breastfeeding didn’t come easy to me. I’ve had access to the best medical care: we only made it because I had a wonderful lactation consultant, access to nourishing herbs, supplements, medications at times, and good nutrition.

I should also mention that I have a dogged (bordering on ridiculous) determination and somewhat robust mental health, and I’m strongly backed up by a supportive husband. Not everyone can say all that – not by a long shot.

My conscious choice to stop feeding now is a result of wading through the various pushes and pulls of our culture until I hit my own sense of self and my understanding of where my boy and I are at.

It’s hard to step far enough aside from the influence of your culture, family, friends, partner and whoever else wants to weigh in to get perspective on exactly where your baby is at, what their needs are, and to then put your own needs as a mother in there too. It’s confusing. And you’re tired. And hormonal.

Then I was hit with all the conflicting philosophies around breastfeeding and weaning that can make you feel guilty regardless of what you do – until I got to the point where I said SHUT UP to it all. I felt enough strength to do it my way – to do what felt right for me and my boy. I felt his readiness emerging, and I responded by planning ahead and preparing us both until it now feels simple and even easy.

So weaning for Kobi has been straightforward. He’s just 14 months and eating like a little monster with his seven teeth. I pick the paw paw, egg and fish out from his hair as he squirms away to drunkenly run after the ball. In the last week or so he has needed reminding to breastfeed or wants to do it on the go and I know that often I am giving it to just get ten more minutes of semi-shut-eye in the morning. As I became more aware of his readiness to let it go, I gave myself and him a few more days to enable the decision to grow firmer and clearer. And so we have softly arrived here.

Hopefully the ease of this transition mirrors how he can traverse other major changes ahead. I think of how Zella (my firstborn) bounced off to her first day of day care with joy and excitement. She allowed me a quick hug before engrossing herself fully in the Playdough. I let soft, warm tears flow as I walked away, with gratitude for the strong little spirit she is, and with some pain as she effortlessly took another big leap away from being my little baby, another movement away from being at one with me.

I am thankful to all the health professionals that have tended to me along my journey: the beautiful midwives, obstetricians, lactation consultants, nurses, early childhood carers and GPs. Also the acupuncturists, Pilates teachers, physios, yoga teachers, naturopaths, nutritionists, chiros, osteos.

Holy moly. What an abundance of incredible medical and wellness support. It’s overwhelming when I look at that list of helpers. The gratitude flows. With all this help, I carried my babies into the world safely and was able to breastfeed and continue breastfeeding despite difficulties. I then had the honour of choosing when to quit without my body forcing me to. I know how privileged I am to have had access to the best of care on offer.

Making the choice to breastfeed is a result of enormous privilege. It is the privilege of a fully functioning body. It’s the privilege of being able to make future-thinking visionary choices early in my career. It’s the privilege of having financial freedom and independence, including priceless support from my business partner (the divine Rebecca Mar Young) who understands and values a mother’s and baby’s needs, and has extended herself to support me and my family.

I’ve been able to make motherhood work financially thanks to help on all sides and a grand dose of luck. What Rebecca and I created in the structure of the Red Tent enabled me to make choices as to how much time I wanted to take off, and then to determine the hours I wanted to work when I returned. Together, we’ve made four pregnancies, births and divine children possible whilst holding all our operations in place and allowing each other the freedom to be fully present mothers in our babies’ lives. To have these options as a new mum is incredible.

Did you know that I was originally a law student? I was head-hunted and joined a multinational property development company. I abandoned that corporate environment where my career options paid far less and my chances of advancement were slim. When I switched to a career in acupuncture it’s because I placed the values of joy, spiritual growth and meaning higher than other objectives, including status and money. Again, I recognise that I made these choices from a place of privilege.

Many women have to work during their pregnancy and throughout the early stages of their baby’s life. They need money. Or the maintenance or advancement of their careers (that they have spent their lives working toward) depend on continuing work. Part-time work is hard to come by, and if you get it, the hours are still 9–5 at best and this can still mean many missed feeds. Not all women can express, and most women don’t want to, so it takes the most dedicated woman with a good milk supply, a stable workday and a supportive workplace to get comfortably through the early days of motherhood.

Yes, Australian workplaces are “supportive” (though often forcibly by law) to breastfeeding. This does not make them conducive to breastfeeding. Full-time working hours are not supportive of breastfeeding, particularly when bubs are little and their needs are greater and mothers are exhausted and the feeding isn’t flowing so easily.

To these women, I’m raising my glass to you. (And yes, I am having a glass of wine tonight.) Hell, I’m going to keep on raising this glass, not just to those of you who have made it through a complete breastfeeding journey (because we are the truly lucky ones), but higher still to all you mums who have struggled and made tough choices on the way, or had the choice of how and when to stop feeding removed from you. It’s so hard to balance your own needs and those of your baby and family, and follow it through, come to the end and feel good about it.

So a huge “Cheers!” to all mums who have nourished your babies (whatever form that took) and kept them growing strong.

When the breast or bottle gets put down, something new emerges. We all stretch through a physical, emotional and spiritual change and enter the next stage of our lives. If you are going through this now with me, or have some nostalgia for when your baby weaned, please join me in a smile, let a warm tear flow if it’s there, whilst your baby and you take steps toward a new, light freedom.