My Articles

My Journey in Breastfeeding

by April Almeida

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Our first child Julianna came in November of 1999. I had a fabulous pregnancy and prepared myself for the rigors of a first childbirth and subsequent breastfeeding. Although I had heard breastfeeding was tough in the beginning, I was naïve enough to still believe it "came naturally to a woman".

Julianna's birth was long, drawn out and in the end a traumatic experience. After taking Lamaze, but studying Bradley as our chosen method, I laboured at home for 22 hours with my incredible husband Mark as my coach. It was a great experience being at home and being able to do as I please. When we did finally get to the hospital, I was excited to learn I was dilated to 7cm all by myself! Even the nurses were amazed. But it all ended there. We stayed at that dilation for another 5 hours before I had to take the epidural to sleep. I hadn't slept in two days and was not going to be able to push. After another 5 hours of rest thanks to the epidural, and 4 hours of hard pushing, my Julianna was finally born via vacuum extraction as she had her hand stuck to her head in the birth canal and was trapped under my pubic bone. Could things get any more difficult? Well, yes.

She latched on beautifully to my breast about 20 minutes after she was born. It took that long because I needed serious stitching done. I figured she would nurse from then on no problem. I was very wrong. Julianna had severe jaundice immediately after birth and it got worse day by day. The nursing staff, although helpful and pro-breastfeeding, were concerned at her dehydration. I fought like crazy to breastfeed. I ignored the need to rest and forced the situation trying everything in my power to wake my sleepy baby. Nothing worked. When I hit my breaking point, and post partum blues kicked in, the nurses conveniently convinced me to let them take her to the nursery for the night and give her some formula to get her filled. In my fear for my baby and my naiveté at how breastfeeding works, I allowed them. Big mistake.

I was never engorged so I thought I was just lucky. Eventually I was convinced that I could not make enough milk for my baby. So we supplemented. We struggled with awful smelling formula that Julianna always ended up vomiting out, I breastfed myself to exhaustion. I was beginning to get very depressed that something I thought I could do without effort became a mission that I fought day and night for, turning me into a warrior of sorts. My baby struggled through jaundice, only to get thrush. We seemed to have one problem after another. Family thought I was pushing myself too much, which made me more upset. There is nothing worse than hearing your own family tell you to just "give it up and give her formula", "you need a break". As if breastfeeding was a sickness that I needed healing from.

Friends told me it was ok to give formula. Even our family doctor said to, which upset me more. The only true support I had was my loving husband who kept telling me it would all work out and I would breastfeed exclusively, and my local LLL leaders who listened emphatically over the phone as I cried that I was not a good mother.

I took to pumping my breasts constantly to help make more out of what I thought was a dwindling milk supply. I joined Internet newsgroups on Breastfeeding and they became my sources for experience, inspiration and support. I read everything I could on the subject. I researched everything I could find on Breastfeeding. Julianna's paediatrician was very supportive and told me all she needed was the breast.

When Julianna was approaching ten weeks old, she started a growth spurt. I knew from previous ones that she would want to nurse a lot, and I didn't want to keep offering formula. I decided then and there to stop the formula supplements and nurse her throughout the spurt, as much as she wanted. To my utter happiness and bliss, it worked! For the very first time since I had given birth, I felt what letdown was. It happened frequently as she worked to nurse and build up my once small but ever-present supply, and I learned how to breastfeed in the relaxed fashion mothers are meant to. I nourished my precious child and became comfortable with new positions that previously would upset me because I thought we could not do. She has not touched a drop of formula since then, and she is now 2 years old and still nursing, although currently self weaning by her own choice.

We have enjoyed being an amazing nursing couple. This bond is something I never dreamed would be so strong. All the work Julianna and I did was so worth it.

Every woman must feel what it is to breastfeed. It is more than just feeding and nourishing your child. It is about love and bonding. It is an incredible journey that opens your soul.

Julianna's Birth (1999)

    After an easy and uneventful pregnancy with my first baby, labour began albeit rather naturally...except that I was a first time mommy and, well, first timers usually worry a bit when the big moment arrives. It began pretty obviously.  I was sitting at home watching TV, relaxing, and I heard this loud sounding "pop" come from inside of me. I freaked out! What just happened to my baby? I had never experienced anything like this before. I tried calm down, and after a few tears of worry was able to. Later that evening after a bath, and upon going to the bathroom yet again, I happened to look down into the toilet bowl and saw my mucous plug! Yay! Labour should start soon. At my regular doctor appointment the next day he agreed I could go any time, and that I had indeed lost my mucous plug. I wasn't sure personally, as there was no sign of blood or show like I'd been told to expect. I started to feel cramps, very slight, 3 days later, and by the 4th day felt even more.

    We managed to go shopping for Christmas items we hadn't yet bought. On the Thursday as well I cleaned out the entire fridge top to bottom. "A severe case of nesting". I had a great burst of energy that Friday, and as we went to bed that evening at 10pm,  I was hit with a strong contraction. For about two hours I tried to sleep, ignoring the ever-growing pain, but by midnight I had to wake Mark up to help me deal with what was happening. We kept track of the minutes between contractions for about three hours, and by 330am we had to get up. I was in true but manageable pain. Mark was a fabulous coach. I laboured at home with him at my side for nearly 24 hours, naturally and happily, until 8pm the following day, where we finally got the contractions down to every 5 minutes lasting about 2 minutes long. We were excited! My mom met us at the hospital, and I was assessed quickly. I was already 7cm dilated, all on my own! The nurses were shocked! I had done most of the hardest work on my own med-free! Just like I planned! But, we had no idea what lay ahead in terms of planned.

    I got into a nice labour & delivery room, with whirlpool tub and all. I decided to try the tub, but soon found the jets of water too painful to withstand, not to mention the ignorant nurse who ignored my request for HOT water, leaving me freezing, so out I got. I managed another 5 hours med-free, at this point we were at the 29 hour mark of a very long and tiring labour, and two days of no sleep-so far. By 1am they "found" me to not be progressing at all, according to their plans, as we were still at 7cm dilation. The nurses were concerned about me, especially that I hadn't any sleep in a couple of days, so…I opted, for the epidural. I was finding I had the urge to push and could no longer manage the nurses warning me NOT to do so. I only took it to fall asleep, as the pain wasn't the problem. The fact that I hadn't gotten any sleep was hindering my relaxation therefore not allowing me to further dilate. I was given the epidural-a very uncomfortable procedure. It was truly horrible sitting up and staying still for two whole minutes through very strong contractions and urges to push which I had to fight. Finally I got some rest once the epidural took effect. Mark slept on a couch chair our nurse had brought him, and we both slept from about 2am until 530am, when they came to check me. I had easily dilated to a full 10cm and was ready to push. But, I asked to sleep a bit longer, and was very happy to be able to. At around 6am I awoke and we started the pushing process. We were told this should last about 2 hours. But, after 4 hours of no progress, the doctors "finally" came to "assess". I was checked many times, and the baby was wedged up under my pubic bone with a hand stuck to her face. This was the reason for the lack of progression. At this point, through exhaustion and feeling literally that I would die, I begged for a C-Section, as the pain was horrible.  They said we were going to have to have a Vacuum Extraction delivery to help me get the baby out, as it was too late for a C-Section because the baby was too far into the birth canal to do one. They hooked up the Vacuum and I was told I "NEEDED" to push with every ounce of energy I had left and that the baby had to be out "NOW". Needless to say the scare tactic the doctors placed upon me worked. So I somehow pushed like there was no tomorrow, and out "squirted" (no slow crowning head first, shoulders, etc like I'd imagined and dreamed I'd get to feel) our baby girl! We were so shocked! We had thought we were having a boy! Mark cried out "It's JULIANNA" and that, happily, was the birth of our daughter, Julianna. She weighed 6 lbs and 15 oz and was 19.5 inches long. She had a full head of black hair, and was the cutest thing! Unfortunately, thanks to the usual medical interventions the hospitals push upon you during birth when they deem it necessary, I was given an episiotomy and tore on top of that. I needed a lot of stitching done after the birth. I was totally exhausted, and my labour totalled 36 hours. Breastfeeding had a very rough start due to the effects of the epidural on my daughter, but we eventually succeeded nursing for over 2 yrs until she self weaned. Looking back, while we got lucky and had very good medical care, even though through interventions I did NOT want, I knew in my heart this was not the birth I had dreamed of or would have expected. I knew in my heart I could do birth med-free and joyfully, not so exhausted that I couldn't enjoy my baby. Little did I know my years of mothering that lie ahead would teach me just how to obtain the birth I'd dreamed of.

 Angelina's Birth(2004)

 If you had asked me 5 yrs ago if I would consider a homebirth, I would have looked you in the eye and laughed. Over the nearly 5 years of parenting our 4.5 yr old daughter Julianna, I had come to love and cherish all things natural and soulful, comforting and by choice. I had become well read and educated on all things regarding breastfeeding and birth. Compleat Mother magazine and the like were my bibles. We naturally parented our daughter by gut instinct and with great love and compassion. As she approached the age of 3 we knew we were now ready to add to our little family and began trying to conceive. We did so immediately, however, we soon lost that precious child within weeks. A devastating blow to our lives. What followed was even more sadness, 9 long months of trying again without success. Our lives became a roller coaster ride into the unsure world of fertility books, charting temps and lots of crying.

    Near the due date of our lost child, we finally conceived our next child, who we soon learned via ultrasound was another girl! We were beyond excited. We knew from that point on  "WE" wanted total control, and opted for midwifery care. We found a wonderful practice and met some amazing women who soon became our midwives. The natural care and love shown to us, the compassionate visits and depth of understanding about our desires always left us with a sense of comfort and inner peace. We knew our birth had to be as such, and so we decided on a homebirth. After a long tiring pregnancy that introduced me to morning sickness, sciatic nerve problems, possible placenta previa and aches and pains I'd never imagined, labour began quite normally and to me not a moment to soon.

    We had planned to attend a Disney on Ice show during March break from school, as our oldest child Julianna (Jules) adores Disney and was very excited about going again as we had the year prior.  The date of the show was exactly one week from my due date. I had been having pre-labour symptoms for weeks by then, slight and easy, but obvious. The days leading up to the show I grew more tired, sore, and knew things were happening. I was so afraid we’d have to miss the show or send her with family and stay home and birth. But somehow I mentally got my body (and baby!) to agree and we made it to the show, albeit while fighting slight contractions the whole time. It was just very important to me to have our family of 3 enjoy one last fun event as just 3 of us. We knew Jules would have some major adjusting to do after that.

    That late evening after the show, I woke at 3am to contractions I had to breathe through. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but annoying enough I could not remain sleeping in between, so I tried my best to doze on and off for a few hours, knowing this had to be it. It resembled how I started labour with Jules’ birth. After 2 hours alone in bed doing so, I got up and went downstairs to Mark, who had fallen asleep on the couch, to let him know he didn’t have to go to work that weekend (3 day shifts). He was surprised but happy. I laboured throughout the entire day easily, breathing and walking around, making sure to eat and drink a lot. My young daughter, who was well prepared for this, helped me do my breathing. It was very much a family event. My body cleansed itself and I spent most of the day in the bathroom emptying myself. It was wonderful to just be home relaxed with my child and my husband, the three of us helping me relax and breathe, timing contractions and talking about the imminent arrival we knew was about to occur that night.

    Having had a very long difficult labour and delivery with Jules, I assumed things would not go fast this time around, even though my midwives warned me to not wait to call them. They knew I handled pain well and might wait too long. I assured them I wouldn’t but deep down knew I would be holding off again calling. By early afternoon my contractions were ten minutes apart and harder but still manageable so I figured we had lots of time. I’d get the odd one at six minutes or eight minutes apart, but everything was still ok. By 5pm seemingly all of a sudden, I had a hard contraction, went to the bathroom and had another while on the toilet! Then as I walked to the living room again I had another! Suddenly my calm self began to flinch. Why were they starting to be on top of one another? From that time on they remained 4 or 5 waves in a row that had me really taken aback and fighting to breathe and remain calm, but knowing things had changed very fast. I hadn’t been able to get to transition with my first birth as they gave me an epidural just before it, so I had no idea I was in transition, which turned out to be good for what lay ahead. We decided to call the midwives just prior to this and they were on their way, saying 20 minutes. My mom and sister were due to be there to watch Jules while we birthed up in our bedroom, however we couldn’t reach them by phone now. Things progressed fast, and Mark took over as the amazing coach he was. He had me lean over his neck and hang through each massive wave of 4 or 5 transitional contractions, which by now had me moaning and nearly grunting through. I tried to fight making noise as our daughter was getting a bit scared hearing me, although we assured her constantly how this was normal and how to have a baby. The midwives were still not there and I was needing to push, and my mom and sister finally came by, having had car trouble, and they immediately helped. My sister took Jules to play in the playroom, and my mom assured me I was in transition, which helped me to mentally get back on track, knowing all was well and normal. I somehow managed to walk upstairs to our bedroom "while transitioning", something my mom says was amazing.

    As soon as we got up there I started to panic, as I had to push, my bum feeling like it was falling out! The midwives were still not there! My mom and hubby held me through contractions while also getting the bed set up, and finally the midwives rolled in at around 620pm, stating a train crossing had slowed them. I yelled I needed to push, and they had me go to the bathroom one last time to empty my bladder (NOT easy while in transition!) and then told me to get as comfortable as I could on the bed, anyway that I needed to. Nothing was comfortable and everything hurt. They checked me and I was 9cm dilated. At this point I could not open my eyes I had to focus very intensely inward on breathing. They told me to do as my body wanted, which was grunt (I swear I wasn’t consciously aware of making sounds at all, it was like my body simply took on another presence, another being, something very primal which I'd read about other women doing but had no idea how it happened so naturally and out of control) groan and push. I started to push and they saw baby right away, and after 15-20 minutes of intense pushing, filled with burning like I couldn’t believe, Angelina was born very quickly! She came head first, then all of her body right away! They placed her on my belly immediately. She was totally covered in furry vernex and had big bright eyes. She didn’t cry much. Mark cut the cord, and Julianna and my sister joined us. In our room during the birth were the 3 midwives, Erin, our midwife in training attending her first homebirth, Annita our secondary who became our primary as our original one was off that weekend, and Helen whom we had not yet met but proved to be a wonderful calming presence. My mom who videotaped it, and to this day is still talking about how much she, a mother of two who birthed in the early 1970's, finally learned about birth. Julianna came on the bed as our new family of 4 lay quietly.

 The midwives made sure we were well, the baby and I.  They truly know how birth is meant to be, and after I delivered the placenta (which we kept and will bury in backyard) they cleaned up, my mom brought me soup and crackers and they (midwives) tucked me into bed, with Julianna beside me, and Mark as well. Angelina weighed 7 lbs 5 oz and was 20 inches long. She started nursing right after birth, and brought in my milk by day 2 amazingly enough! I did have a slight 2nd degree tear, no thanks to my prior episiotomy, which was sewn up easily and painlessly and healed in days. Overall the homebirth experience was one of utter bliss, healing, nurturing and love. It is amazing, calming and so beautiful. I’ve never felt calmer, more like a woman, a mother, or more alive. Natural childbirth is the ONLY way to experience the divine line between life and death, of becoming primal. Of being one with the universe.

Our Weaning Story   

by April Almeida

"Wean: to accustom (as a child) to take food otherwise than by nursing." 

  My first daughter and I shared an incredible bond that went beyond the usual 9 months in the womb. It was a bond like no other, sometimes more powerful that when I carried her within the warmth and security of my body. We lovingly and beautifully shared the sacred bond of breastfeeding. This wonderful act of nourishing my child from my body was, in my opinion, the best way to feed my baby. There was no other feeling in the world to me, aside from birthing her, than that of cradling her in my arms and putting her to my milk-filled breast. It just felt natural, an extension of myself.

After her much anticipated though difficult and long birth, I assumed that I would simply breastfeed my new baby.  I believed that to breastfeed was simply to put the baby to breast and smile a heavenly smile.  While breastfeeding is not rocket science, it is a learned undertaking, and did not come easy for us. My daughter was a sleepy baby, thanks to a severe case of jaundice and side effects from birth, and I had no idea what I was doing. The hospital wasn't much help, and when I got home I was terrified. But, through much hard work and stubborn determination on my part, and with a strong foundation of support from my husband and family, we managed to establish a truly incredible relationship. It took us almost 10 weeks, but during a growth spurt, we finally were truly breastfeeding. 

During those early weeks and months, it was all about feeding her. I made sure, as when pregnant, that I ate well, took care of myself, and fed her whenever she wanted or needed, on demand, as it is known. She was a happy baby and easily satisfied. As she grew she soon found nursing to be her greatest comfort. She knew she could happily fall into a blissful soothing state of sleep while nestled securely within arms, drinking my precious golden liquid. She thrived on what my body was designed to produce for her. And I thrived watching this second miracle occur. The first was simply conceiving her and helping her develop within my body. Just being a part of this miraculous happening, under God's watchful eye. Breastfeeding was a continuance of that exquisiteness, that natural wondrous blend of moments.  

We continued on in our relationship, and we came through many obstacles and joyous moments. We faced thrush, a yeast-like infection, with angry determination. We battled supply issues with perseverance and hope. We struggled with decisions about when to start solids, we fought colds and flu by researching non-harmful medications, we worked on maintaining a good diet, and, the usual things a mother and child learn to deal with when connected in such an intimate fashion. We educated our family members, friends, strangers and our doctor, with a resounding natural passion. One thing that never occurred to me through it all was ending the relationship, or as it is recognized, weaning. While no one in the long line of mothers in my family breastfed past a couple of months, I truly never gave thought to weaning, or how long we would breastfeed. Prior to pregnancy I assumed I would nurse the usual and recognized few months. However, I inwardly felt that because of all of the problems and difficult situations we faced in getting it established, I found I wanted to go on longer. This was probably a natural feeling because of the extreme effort it was for us to become a successful breastfeeding couple. But it wasn't a conscious thought or decision for me. It simply was the way it was. 

As we grew in our nursing partnership, I learned all I could about breastfeeding. I researched and read everything about the basics of breastfeeding, through books and online. I read stories from other mothers about how they overcame their problems, and I learned about the purpose of nursing for a longer duration, defined as extended breastfeeding or nursing beyond the first year. I became a member of La Leche League, and locally attended meetings when I could. I treasured knowing what I was doing what was best for my daughter and enjoyed being around other moms who shared my passion. It also strengthened my inner beliefs that this was a relationship built on trust between my child and myself, and basically it was up to us to see it grow. That was key. Learning that a real child-honoured breastfeeding relationship was about the two people involved, not just about one of them and which one makes the decisions. So long as we were both content and wanted this circle of two, it would remain. I don't remember when it occurred, but I had decided to practice child-led, or natural, weaning.  This, to me, epitomized what parenting was, and my husband and I shared this belief system. Parenting with loving guidance, rather than forcefulness.  

The following paragraph, to me, is priceless: "Natural weaning means allowing the child to outgrow nursing on his own timetable. Many mothers choose this approach because they recognize how important breastfeeding is to their child, or because they find it easier to wait for the child to wean himself. However, that doesn't mean the mother has no influence in the process. Natural weaning incorporates the natural limit setting that babies need as they grow into toddlers. A mother who is practicing natural weaning views weaning as a developmental skill and lovingly guides her child as he learns the skills that replace nursing. This guidance may involve asking the child to wait to nurse or providing food or stimulating activity in place of nursing. It involves respecting the mother's feelings and preferences about breastfeeding while also taking into account the needs of the child. " [Excerpted from "How Weaning Happens," by Diane Bengson, 1999, LLLI]

 I soon became a strong advocate for breastfeeding, educating those I could, and staying strong against those I couldn't. My daughter quickly turned one year old, and nursing was still the way she received most of her true nourishment. We held off on solids, as I learned (the hard way) that they weren't necessary until after 6-9 months of life, or so. Breastfeeding by now had become just a normal part of our family. It was a wonderful way to feed her, but also to comfort her, love her, teach her and parent her. To many, a nursing toddler was something odd, something not in the societal norm, but to us, and those who knew us, it was just our way of life. Soon, we were into teething, a stage where many give up nursing for fear of being bitten, or, for having been bitten. My daughter rarely did this, and on the two occasions tried, the shock from my reaction was enough for her to realize that if she wanted more of this relationship, she would not be wise to try that again. I also discussed with her from an early age that she was to be as gentle with mommy as mommy was with her. It must have worked, because she never knowingly tried to hurt me while nursing again. 

Our relationship was now set in stone. We nursed throughout the day here and there; we nursed at night, in the morning, and sometimes during the night. I won't say it was easy all the time. I was awakened many nights with a request to nurse, and many nights I was not too happy with that. There were many times over the span of our 26 month nursing relationship I just wanted to be left alone, when I didn't want to sit still for a feed, or offer yet another comforting moment. And true to form, that was precisely when my demanding child insisted I do just those things. But, every time she asked, there I was. Ready and willing. It felt natural, and I knew she trusted that I would always let her nurse, for whatever reason. I could not refuse her sweet face looking adoringly up at me, wanting to be nursed. And when she was older, the bond grew because she was able to verbally communicate her need to nurse to me. There is nothing more amazing than actually discussing with your nursing child how your breastmilk tastes to them, how it feels to nurse, why they like it and so on. I soon learned all these things and it brought tears to my eyes. I knew I had made the right choice for us, to continue breastfeeding until she decided she had enough. While it sounds like it was a choice made by me alone, it truly was not. It was a shared need by us both. I simply tuned into her cues, and she made sure I knew what they were. 

There were many times I wondered about breastfeeding for such a long time. Not about ending it, because I knew deep down I did not have the heart to ever say no to her requests to nurse. But, I often wondered how moms did this for so long. How did they trust that the child would ever wean? Ideally, child led weaning was a nice idea, but the reality seemed to be that as she got older it felt like I still had a needy baby on my hands. Could I trust that she would ever tell me she was done with nursing and that I had fulfilled her need?  It was never a major concern for us, but the thought crossed my mind, naturally, more than once. The funny thing was, every time I felt like I'd had it with nursing, that feeling was soon extinguished somehow, without my understanding most times. Now looking back, I assume it was simply the true depth of my love for my child that kept me going. The knowledge that I was giving her the ultimate in immunity, nourishment, love and comfort, secured my decision even further. This gave me peace when the road got bumpy. In every book I read there was the understanding and proof that child-led natural weaning did happen when the child was ready. Weaning would occur, eventually. But of course, I never felt it would really happen to us. Even after setting a few limits here and there to maintain my sanity, she adjusted so well it simply gave her more incentive to use the other nursing sessions to her advantage and enjoyment.  

And then as she turned two years old, the nursing sessions and her fierce needs started to diminish. I noticed that as she developed in leaps and bound in other areas, she lost her desire to breastfeed. I knew this was natural and that I was still needed as a partner in our breastfeeding bliss, but it was changing. I watched her learn to draw, years ahead of her time, and the focus she had was similar to the intense concentration she once had when nursing. She started to want to us to read more books to her, and once we put all of her books in her bedroom, she was completely enthralled with reading. Nursing was becoming secondary to learning. It was a natural progression, and incredible to watch firsthand. We then were able to cut out the naptime nursing. I simply prepared her weeks in advance of what was to happen and she happily accepted. Then she started to lessen the time at the breast overall. Naptimes were now happy reading times that lulled her to a tired state, as the breast once did.  She slowed to nursing only the morning, in my bed with me, and in the evening, before bed after reading time. These sessions at one time were longer to make up for the others that we had limited. But, within weeks they too waned. She was too busy now to nurse for long. For a few months a normal session for us was her asking, "Mommy, booby please for me?" in her most precious tone of voice, and me smiling and heading for the rocking chair. But, she'd latch on, tickle my face or talk with a mouthful of breast, and ask to go to bed. I shed many a tear as she matured and needed me less in this respect. I knew logically she needed me in the new and exciting things she had learned and was now doing. But, nursing had been truly what we were about and was our foundation, so I had to now be the one to adjust to the limits she was setting. 

Soon, at the start of her third year of life, she started to simply not ask me to nurse. She would forget to ask and go to bed at night without giving it a thought. I was torn about offering, even though many months had passed since I had ever offered her the breast. I wanted to remind her, to keep it going somehow. But, I knew it would be a detriment to the natural process, and might confuse her more and possibly upset her normal state of development and maturity. I left it alone, and quietly dealt with my own emotions. I had to trust her now, to do what was best for our relationship. It was life come full circle. At one time not too long ago she depended on me and had to trust me to do what was best, and allow her to nurse as long as she needed. But now, it was me who had to trust that she would do what she needed.  It was a natural turn of events, and I was determined to let it happen as she decided it should. Nearing the end of the first month of the New Year, she stopped asking and forgot on many occasions to nurse. Then we created a playroom next to her bedroom, and that, suddenly, it seemed to me, was the end of our morning nursing session. She just wanted to play. We were now down to one night session before bed, and soon, that stopped. While I was shocked that she now had not asked for days, at the end of that month, I knew the end had come. My baby was now growing up, and had clearly decided for herself that she had nursed enough. The relationship was over. She and I now had to move onto a new relationship and find ways to connect and communicate. And we have.

On two occasions since she weaned, she has asked me to try and taste my milk again. Of course, I let her. The first time, she said no without even latching on, and the second time she licked my breast, giggled loudly and said, in her big girl voice, "No mommy, I don't have that anymore I am a big girl now. Booby is for babies. Can we have a baby please and can I give some to the baby?" Needless to say, we are onto bigger and better things. Our relationship is strong, secure, and I am learning new ways to parent, with the same loving guiding way I did when I nursed her. I truly feel because of nursing her as long as I did, and allowing her to self-wean, I have offered her a way to develop and grow on her own schedule, and with confidence.  I see that now in all other aspects of her learning. It is a beautiful thing, and I am proud to have helped her get to where she is.  I will forever miss the bond of breastfeeding we shared for 26 months, and I treasure every moment we shared. Breastfeeding is a way to parent and gives me a sense of well being and security as a mother, knowing I am not only giving the best in nourishment, but allowing for a natural developmental growth, and a head start in self-direction and self-reliance. I am blessed to have had this experience.  

All writing is sole property of April Almeida Breastfeeding Matters Support & Resource Site 2005