Breastfeeding is not just for my toddler, it’s for me too

So today, while my daughter entertained herself by running wild in a soft play, I took some time to have a hot drink and play around on Facebook. I saw a cartoon which made me smile at first.

The cartoon showed three mums breastfeeding toddlers and the toddlers were doing various gym-nurstics and other cheeky toddler nursing antics. Probably the sort of stuff anyone breastfeeding beyond babyhood can relate to. Sat next to them, a lady who doesn’t have a child says “My mom always said anyone breastfeeding a toddler does it for their own pleasure, I can see now that’s not true!”.

After the initial smile, I paused. And I thought. And the more I thought about this cartoon the more annoyed it made me. I got very annoyed, not with the cartoon as such, but with our society and our wider culture which says “Okay, if we have to accept you might want to breastfeed an older baby or child, you absolutely can’t, absolutely shan’t, enjoy any minute of it.”

I know this cartoon wasn’t badly meant. It was meant to be funny. A bit of solidarity for parents breastfeeding older children in a world where there is little of it. I can applaud it for that. Maybe I just take things a bit too seriously. Maybe sitting in a Wacky Warehouse for three hours just makes me angry. If you don’t agree, I’m happy for you to scroll on by, no hard feelings. However, I need to speak my truth. I want to speak it for all those people out there feeding older children. The ones who also don’t feel they can say it.

I still breastfeed my preschooler. She’s pushing four. So obviously, I’ve been breastfeeding a while. We nurse maybe two or three times a day. As she gets older it happens less, becomes a brief sweet interlude in our busy days. I love my daughter and she loves her “baboo time”, and of course, I often do it for her. Sometimes I might not feel like it, I might feel a bit touched out, I might put her off because I’m not wearing the right bra or I’m in a nice dress with no boob access. I get to have a say too. And because I have a say, I will say: Sometimes when we breastfeed, I also do it for me.

It’s kind of taboo, especially with an older boobling, to say that.

I nurse my daughter for many reasons and some of those reasons are selfless. Some of them are not.

I wouldn’t breastfeed A if I didn’t like to breastfeed her. And no, I don’t mean I like it in that creepy way some people think of when somebody talks about nursing older children (if this is you, seek help m’kay?). Sometimes, just taking a moment in the day to reconnect, in a way that is special to us, is pretty wonderful. The oxytocin starts flowing and we are having a cuddle and I remember how much I love being her mum and just enjoy the closeness we have.

I also nurse her at bedtime because thank goodness for boob, it makes bedtime in this house so frickin easy. Ten minutes and zzzz, she is OUT. No bedtime battles here. I am happily smug, with a glass of wine by 7pm in our house. It’s not the bedtime magic bullet for everyone, but I am so glad it is for me!

I breastfeed my daughter because she rarely gets sick. I’ve had to take less than a handful of days leave from work despite her being at childcare four days out of seven. Hurrah for that milky, immune system supporting magic!

I nurse her back to sleep at 5.30am, because quite frankly, I am not ready to get up and it means I am not cursing CBeebies because it doesn’t start until 6am like some of my parent friends are. Seriously though BBC, sort that s*** out.

I nurse her because it cures any tantrum and upset without me having to negotiate a screaming, writhing, octopus child. This is great for me, I am not so great at negotiating with a screaming kid. My husband is awesome at it. Me? I’m glad I have a boob to use.

I don’t nurse her for this reason but it is nice to know I have significantly reduced my chances of breast and ovarian cancers, diabetes, heart disease and osteoporosis.

I nurse my daughter because it is special to me.

I nurse her because I love to see the sheer joy on her face as I say “oh okay then”, as she jumps on my lap and laughs as I cuddle her close.

I breastfeed her because I love it.

Breastfeeding is for the dyad. That means both participants. Not just the baby. When we deny this to the world and laugh and say “oh, it is all for them really” aren’t we really saying it is unacceptable for the mother to enjoy breastfeeding? Why do we have to be martyrs? Why does it feel so scandalous to say “You know what, sometimes I really enjoy breastfeeding my toddler?”

That day is coming down the road fast, so fast. Too fast. I know the day when my child will no longer need those special cuddles and breastfeeds will come and go before I know it. This won’t be forever, and when it ends, I will treasure those memories, though my arms will ache and feel empty. Snatching a brief hug here, and a brief snuggle there as my child runs away to play with her friends. This is the way that parenting goes. It moves on, it evolves and often, you don’t get a say in whether you are ready. It just happens.

Once, way back when A was a babe I was agonising over whether to start putting her into her own bedroom. I remember clearly when this lovely lady who ran the group smiled at me and said, “Our children are always moving away from us, don’t rush it if you don’t want to”. Her words were so beautiful. I think I will remember them forever.

So I’m not going to rush it or deny what I get out of breastfeeding too. While I might not savour every moment, and I won’t tell you to, because that is false, and not how life is, I will also not be ashamed to say I breastfeed for me as well as for my child.

I will speak my truth.

Remember, it’s okay to speak yours.

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2 thoughts on “Breastfeeding is not just for my toddler, it’s for me too

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