Renee: “My surroundings react shocked, as I simply breastfeed my toddler”

When I was pregnant with Luca, I had so many expectations. There was one thing I especially hoped for: that I would be able to breastfeed. I had such a good feeling about it, but I was also aware that it doesn't always work out.

It soon became apparent that it wasn't as easy as I had hoped

When Luca was finally born, the first disappointments came quickly. What a chaos it was. It started during the delivery, which didn't go exactly by the book. Everything progressed slowly and with difficulty, and I was completely exhausted. But I had hoped that once he was here, I would forget everything. Breastfeeding would make it all right. However, it soon became clear that it wasn't as easy as I had thought.

We were constantly struggling

The first time I put him to my breast, he was very searching, but little came of it. He was tired, I was tired, and no one in the hospital seemed to be able to keep up with the pace of breastfeeding. We were given nipple shields, a tube for supplemental feeding, you name it, we tried it. I had hoped that moment would have been different. I expected us to immediately get into the breastfeeding flow, but instead, it felt like we were constantly struggling. The maternity nurse occasionally gave me a look, like a hopeful glance of “come on, you can do this”, but her help wasn't always useful. My breasts sometimes felt like a strange kind of war, with nipples that hurt and Luca who didn't always understand.

Slowly but surely we began to realize

I must honestly say that sometimes I thought: “What have I gotten myself into?” But every time Luca finally managed to drink properly, it felt like a victory. Slowly but surely, we got the hang of it. Yes, it was hard work, but we did it together. Those intimate moments between the two of us, the sound of his little breaths, his gaze turning towards me. It was so much more than just nourishment.

He is not ready to stop breastfeeding yet, and neither am I

Luca is already two years old, and I'm still breastfeeding him. Of course, there was the moment when I started to doubt. When is it enough? And isn't he too big? But every time I asked myself that question, I saw his gentle gaze and thought: "No, he's not ready yet." And me? I didn't feel ready either. Breastfeeding felt like the last threads of that tiny baby era. The moments I still had to share with him, before he would really grow up, before he could do everything by himself. I held him close, and sometimes it felt as if those moments should be captured forever.

“He's getting a bit too big, don't you think?”

But I can't deny the remarks from the outside world. “Isn't it enough already?” “He's getting a bit too big, don't you think?” “Breastfeeding isn't necessary anymore, is it?” Sometimes I really felt a bit crazy. Why wouldn't it be good enough? Why would it be so strange to continue breastfeeding my child as long as it feels right for both of us? I mean, I am his mother. If I feel it's right, what does it matter what others think?

Why did breastfeeding suddenly get an expiration date?

Sometimes those remarks hit harder than I would like to admit. It wasn't just the critical gaze of my mother-in-law or the comment from a friend. It was the idea that I was doing something wrong, something that my maternal instinct said was fine, but which according to society might not be entirely 'normal'. It felt as though I had to continuously explain why I was still doing it, even though it really wasn't anyone's business. Why had it suddenly been given an expiration date, that breastfeeding? Wasn't the point to just do what felt right for you and your child?

The breastfeeding mafia

The looks from other mothers were often the most painful. A friend who was once so enthusiastic about motherhood, but had already decided that breastfeeding should be done after six months. Or that one mother at the playgroup who asked with a slight laugh if I didn't think that Luca was now a big boy for breastfeeding. It always felt as if they were looking down on me, as if I was doing something wrong. But then I would look at my son, who still had that same curious look in his eyes when he 'asked' for breastfeeding, and I just knew it wasn't time to stop yet.

I even started to have doubts about myself

I did have my doubts, especially as the comments from others became increasingly harsh. Why did they feel the need to judge me? Why did everyone think there was an age when it was no longer normal? I even started to doubt myself. Maybe I was too possessive, too clingy to that moment of motherhood that I cherished so much. Maybe I should have stopped a long time ago, as others said. But then I looked at Luca and saw how happy and reassured he was, and I knew I didn't need to make any excuses.

When the time comes and we are both ready

We continued with our routine, which for Luca breastfeeding was a way to calm down, to nourish, but also a way to preserve a piece of our connection. The bonds that I had lovingly built up in those first months were stronger than ever. And whenever someone asked again when I planned to stop, I thought of the answer I had for myself: when the time is right, when we are both ready.

The best part of it all? That Luca and I can make this decision together

And honestly, I don't know when that will be. It might not have an end date at all. Maybe one day it will just pass, quietly, without much fuss. Perhaps that's the most beautiful part of it all: that Luca and I can make this decision together. When he no longer needs it, I will know that it's time to let go. But until then? Until then, I'll just keep giving him what he needs – love, warmth, and breastfeeding.

RENEE