By Saidatunnajat Yusuf, BMSG Counsellor
I breastfed my baby for almost 3 years. When I got pregnant, I knew that breastfeeding was the only way to go. Even though I was a first-time mother, I was one of the lucky ones who had a smooth sailing start to breastfeeding. I had a good support system, and most importantly, I followed my instincts and listened to my baby and body. I did not question my supply – as long as he was drinking happily, I knew that everything was okay. As a stay-at-home mom, breastfeeding got even easier as Nuraz grew older. He was an expert latcher, and I was happy to offer the breast anytime to instantly calm a fussy, cranky baby.
As good as it might have seemed, things took a different turn when my baby became a toddler, and I knew that one day, these wonderful breastfeeding days would come to an end. I was gradually getting more tired and I increasingly felt that I wanted my space and body back, but I persevered, because I knew that my baby still needed me.
I had people (especially my mother-in-law) telling me how skinny my baby was because he was not eating well, and that I needed to give him some sort of calcium or alternative source of milk so that he would put on weight. As such, I doubted myself a lot. Visits to my MIL’s place were always stressful, as she would make me feed any sort of milk from a bottle; “he needs his milk after every meal” she would say. There was also this expectation for me to provide a certain amount of milk on a daily basis just to meet his daily milk intake. I tolerated the comments, breathed in and out, and just trusted myself as the mother of my own child. I had to believe in myself, and trust that what I was doing for my child was right. I gave myself numerous pep talks so that the negativity would not cloud my beliefs and principles. I told myself that it was okay to continue nursing my toddler. I would wean him when the time was right. I was at no liberty to wean him just because someone told me to, or because he was naturally skinny. The time would come, and I would do it when we were both ready.
I set a target to close the doors on my breastfeeding journey when he turned two years old. However, it wasn’t easy as it seemed. When Nuraz turned 2, I also decided to go back to work, and my husband and I sourced for a daycare to care for Nuraz for the five hours each day that I would be at work. I took this opportunity to slowly cut down our nursing sessions. A plan is just a plan, so how did it work out? Well, it was a long 10-month process!
He doesn’t tell me that he misses breastfeeding, but I know that he misses our late night nursing sessions – just like me.
Nuraz was one of those babies who depended only on the breast to put him to sleep. As such, I would have to lie in bed with him every nap time and evening just so that he could sleep. I knew it was normal behavior, but I questioned myself so many times. Was I spoiling my child? It was such a concern when I put him in daycare. I questioned the caregivers every single day on whether Nuraz had been able to sleep and how long he hadslept for. We did also attempt to try to put formula into a bottle for the caregiver to give to him, something I regret. We thought that perhaps if he saw his other classmates having the bottle and sleeping he would follow suit. But my kid knew that nothing other than mother’s milk was going to soothe and comfort him. At two years of age he was still such a picky eater – a phase that we have luckily escaped from. Nuraz did not take any other form of milk – fresh, powdered, strawberry, chocolate, anything – it was really tough because I was concerned that he was not getting enough nutrients from his small intake of solids. Subconsciously however, perhaps I did not really try very hard with solids because I still believed that he was thriving well with whatever I was providing him through my milk.
Cutting down nursing sessions were hard. Firstly, I cut down on nursing sessions by ensuring that we kept ourselves busy. Often, when Nuraz saw me idling, he would want to nurse knowing that his mother’s breasts were available! As such, I would always find something to do and made myself busy, so he would know that the breasts were busy too. We went out a lot too so that he would be occupied running around.
The nursing sessions before nap or bedtime were the hardest to drop. I still nursed him, but I would cut it short. And whenever I realized that he had fallen into a deep sleep, I would quickly unlatch him and leave him to sleep alone – well, until I joined him for bed in the night. As much as I wanted to nap beside him, I knew that this would just give him easy access to my breasts. On nights when I just did not feel like nursing Nuraz to sleep, my husband would take over to tackle the situation. It was heartbreaking, as Nuraz would cry out for me as he did not want his daddy to put him to sleep. He wanted me, and he wanted to nurse. What my husband and I did was to set a timer for 5 to 10 minutes, and if all else failed, I would relent and go in to nurse him to sleep. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not – so we played by ear. Still, Nuraz would always find his way back to the breasts in the middle of the night and help himself to the feed. I started wearing really tight unaccessible clothing to bed. Our nursing sessions got shorter and shorter, and there were times when I woke up in the morning, realising that my clothing was still intact and that he had not nursed at all. And then one fine afternoon on October 2016, Nuraz took his last nursing session, and that was that.
My son is turning five soon, and it has been exactly two years since he took his last feed from me. We had a good run together, and I am happy to say that he is thriving on all kinds of solids. Nuraz, although independent, can be clingy and insecure. Sometimes, I wonder if it is an only child syndrome, or if it is because I breastfed him for so long. It becomes very difficult to get others (even other family members) to care for him when I need to run errands or just have some “me time”. He doesn’t tell me that he misses breastfeeding, but I know that he misses our late night nursing sessions – just like me.