On the very first day of shelter-in-place, my son nursed incessantly. He was 22 months old, and I thought to myself, “Oh no.” My plan was to breastfeed for a year, possibly 18 months at the most. This timeline was influenced partly by my upcoming book release, which was scheduled for mid-2020, alongside my intention to tour without my son for several days. Additionally, I wanted to have a clearer endpoint in sight because breastfeeding can be quite demanding.
However, when he turned one, it became evident that my little one was not ready to wean, and surprisingly, neither was I. By that time, he was eating solid foods, so breastfeeding was not as frequent as it had been. Yet, my perspective on nursing had evolved. What once felt like an obligation began to transform into an empowering experience that we both cherished. I was actively participating in a significant decision regarding my body and nurturing my child, a choice that often seemed at odds with societal expectations.
As he approached 22 months, I found myself longing for a break. I dreamt of indulging in some long-expired edibles and sleeping in without interruption from my son’s early morning demands for milk. Just a couple of months prior, I had started to gently wean him. One morning, he surprised me by waking up without asking for milk, prompting a mix of emotions. I excitedly shared this with a doula friend, who humorously replied, “Congratudolences!”
Then the pandemic struck. Our routine, which included my toddler spending two days at daycare and three days with my parents, was shattered. Suddenly, he was home 24/7, and all he wanted was to nurse.
During that first week, he couldn’t believe his luck. “Do you want to play with blocks?” I would ask. “No! I wanna nurse!” he would respond. “How about a bath?” “Bath is silly! Nursing, nursing!” Even looking out the window was met with, “I don’t like windows! Nuuuurrrrssse!!!”
As the weeks passed, he fell back into familiar patterns—nursing for comfort and solace. Our constant togetherness during lockdown played a big role, but so did the absence of other engaging options. In those early days, we didn’t even know if it was safe to take a walk, plus he was too young to wear a mask without trying to eat it.
I felt a sense of despair. I recognized the benefits of breastfeeding a toddler and acknowledged my privilege in being able to choose this path when many parents cannot. I had heard that children often wean naturally between the ages of two and four, and I knew many resilient individuals who had breastfed their children for years. Yet, how could I manage my book tour—something I had eagerly anticipated since before becoming a parent—while navigating work from home with a child constantly attached to me? And those edibles! When would I finally enjoy them again?
Then my reasons for weaning began to dissolve. It became clear that the anticipated 2020 book tour would be virtual. I learned how to create a workspace away from my son, so he wouldn’t associate my presence with nursing. Eventually, I mastered the art of saying, “You can’t nurse now, but you can nurse later!” in a cheerful tone that helped him accept the delay. The allure of the edibles paled in comparison to the oxytocin released during nursing. Did I really want to sacrifice that for THC?
Breastfeeding also proved to be incredibly practical during our time at home. It became a soothing tool, a way to prepare for naps, and a strategy for moments when I needed to check my phone while he nursed. Nursing was not just a burden; it was a vital coping mechanism during the pandemic.
As I adjusted to the idea that we might be nursing for longer than I had initially intended, my worries about weaning lessened. There was no book tour, no work-related urgency, and so we continued as long as we both chose to. On days when I wasn’t working, I began to cherish his requests for nursing; it provided precious downtime in an otherwise chaotic world. It’s hard to move when nursing, so I learned to relax and enjoy the moment.
Breastfeeding has taught me patience. It’s not a passive act; it’s hard work! Your body becomes a source of nourishment, exhausting you even as you sit still. But the effort is often in the waiting.
This truth extends to parenting in general. Many essential tasks, like ensuring a toddler doesn’t choke on food or monitoring their movements at the beach, can appear effortless to an outsider but are fundamentally important.
In these pandemic times, the skill of waiting has become even more crucial for everyone. While the wait for COVID numbers to decline or for a vaccine is far more serious than waiting for a child to finish nursing, the underlying skill of patience is the same. I’ve often struggled with being still and taking deep breaths, but my toddler’s ongoing nursing has provided daily lessons in the art of waiting.
Now, as my child’s third birthday approaches, I reflect on whether I will stop nursing and if he will naturally lose interest as he starts preschool. The truth is, I don’t have the answers. For now, I’ll embrace the uncertainty, letting these questions simmer while I breathe and see where this journey takes us.
For those interested in similar topics, check out our other blog posts, such as this one. If you’re looking for resources on artificial insemination, visit Make A Mom for a comprehensive at-home insemination kit. For more insights on pregnancy, Healthline offers excellent information about IVF and related topics.
Search Queries:
- home insemination process
- self insemination methods
- breastfeeding benefits for toddlers
- how to wean a toddler
- tips for new parents
Summary:
In this reflective piece, the author shares her unexpected journey of breastfeeding her toddler during the pandemic, originally intending to wean him by age two. The lockdown forced them into constant proximity, reigniting her son’s desire to nurse and reshaping her views on breastfeeding. Rather than seeing it as a burden, she began to appreciate the calm it brought during a chaotic time, learning the value of patience and adaptability in parenting. As her toddler’s third birthday approaches, she contemplates the future of their nursing relationship, embracing uncertainty and the lessons of waiting.
Leave a Reply