I breastfed my little boy for two years and four days. When I weaned him it was right for us but it was also the hardest thing to do. I was riddled with guilt and suffered badly from the weaning blues.
My early breastfeeding journey was relatively bumpy. When William was born he found latching difficult. The midwife looking after us told me it was because I had big boobs, as she watched me give some colostrum and try to clumsily feed him before “leaving us to it”. He’d been on this earth for about eight hours before he’d had a proper feed and that time had been spent having bloods and antibiotics whilst I was stitched up and treated for sepsis (you can read more about my difficult labour and birth here).
I was determined to exclusively breastfeed and I had no formula in the house but in the first few days of being home I was terrified that I was doing something wrong. He wouldn’t latch well and would fall asleep after feeding for less than five minutes. His urine smelled concentrated and the nurse in me could feel that he was lighter. I could not feed my son.
Day 5 came and I was visited by a midwifery support worker, she told me how amazing I was and weighed him at a kilo over birth weight. I pushed her to weigh him again and he’d actually lost almost 10% of his birthweight. I couldn’t trust her and asked her to leave and then I called my mum. My mum spent hours with me helping my little boy to latch and eventually it felt natural, within three weeks he was back to birthweight and I was feeling confident.
Fast forward three months and I woke up overnight with agonising stomach pain. I was told it was reflux and suffered for months until I turned yellow. I was having gallbladder attacks which caused liver damage. Luckily my boy could stay with me and once I’d made it very clear I wasn’t bottle feeding him the medical team were helpful it ensuring that I had good pain relief which was breastfeeding safe (you can read about my experience with this here).
Terri breastfeeding her son whilst ill in hospital
Breastfeeding became my calm in the storm. I cherished our contact naps. They made me feel sure of my body at a time when I was often overwhelmed with pain. When William was 13 months old I had my gallbladder removed and I finally felt like I could be a mum. We were still going strong on our breastfeeding journey. I’d returned to work and navigated starting nursery and being away from William for 13 hours at a time as a paediatric nurse. Luckily my amazing husband smashed putting him down at night and even luckier he’d have a cup of cow’s milk at night so I didn’t have to worry about pumping as my supply regulated quickly.
Breastfeeding became my calm in the storm. I cherished our contact naps. They made me feel sure of my body at a time when I was often overwhelmed with pain.
In November 2023 I had a cold that I couldn’t shake and I was exhausted. I was pregnant. We were overjoyed and I was overwhelmed. I knew that my supply could tank and yet I was still feeding William on demand (constantly). I was determined to get to two years of breastfeeding, that was my goal. I was a high risk pregnancy but I was fully supported by my obstetrician and midwife to breastfeed.
Terri’s newborn daughter breastfeeding
My supply didn’t seem to be affected by pregnancy for which I was so grateful, as William didn’t seem anywhere near ready to wean. I accepted this and relished the idea of tandem nursing. It was definitely tough breastfeeding through the nausea but it was simply another obstacle for us to overcome
My beautiful daughter was born by emergency C-section in August, she latched on straight away and has always fed like a pro. When William came to visit he immediately asked for milk and I experienced my first tandem feed. I felt over the moon, like the milk making mumma I was.
When we got home I continued to feed both children on demand but very rarely tandem nursed. When I saw midwives and the health visitor they were supportive but there wasn’t a lot of support specifically for tandem feeding mums and I felt really isolated.
When my milk came in after having my daughter, that’s when my postpartum hormones hit hard. Every time I fed William I experienced severe breastfeeding aversion. I’d occasionally felt this during my period but not to this extent. I wanted to cry every time he fed. The guilt I felt with the aversion was unreal, I was so lucky to have the support of my husband, family, friends and the National Breastfeeding Helpline. I often used the messaging service when I needed to be told that I wasn’t a bad mum, that this feeling was normal and that I would be ok.
I didn’t want to stop breastfeeding William but I also wanted the buffet to close. I thought that offering set feed times in a gentle way would help to start the weaning process in a way that felt kind to both of us and still offer him comfort in a particularly challenging time.
I started following Danielle Facey aka The Breastfeeding Mentor on Instagram and using the weaning techniques she talks about in her articles. With her help I was able to reduce feeds to three a day without William being jealous watching Edie feed. I would frequently reiterate that he could have pasta, grapes, milk in a cup etc whilst Edie could only have mummy milk and my gorgeous boy seemed to understand that.
When William became unwell and asked for more frequent feeds then I fed him. This transition needed to work for both of us.
In September William turned two. I’d reached my goal and he was now only really asking for feeds at night time. One a day. On one hand I was ready for him to stop, but on the other hand I also wasn’t. I was so conflicted and I don’t know why. Stopping feeding William was a source of constant anxiety and upset but I knew it was coming.
Every night after his bath I would tell William that I loved him, that we would always have our nighttime cuddles but soon mummy milk would be all done. I made my husband take photos every night. On Wednesday 25th September I fed him for the last time (I’m crying as I type that). I had breastfed my beautiful boy for two years and four days. The next night when he asked for milk I gave him a huge cuddle and kiss and told him that “mummy’s milk was all done” he cried but he soon settled down with milk in a cup. I then went downstairs and cried
Terri breastfeeding her two year old son for the last time
The next night he didn’t ask and after a few days he told me that my milk was all done. At the time he was cuddled up next to me whilst I was feeding Edie. I was so proud of him and I feel that being open and honest with him helped the process of weaning. He knows he is still so loved.
It was right for me to stop breastfeeding so why do I feel so much guilt? I feel so guilty that I didn’t let him self wean, I feel guilty that as someone so passionate about breastfeeding that I ended his journey. I am however so pleased that I prioritised my mental health and I do feel a sense of freedom even though I plan to feed Edie until she’s two (unless she self weans first).
Writing this has been so therapeutic and a way to help me tackle the weaning blues. It’s also given me time to reflect and celebrate over two years of feeding my beautiful babies.
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