08/12/2026
As I come to the end of breastfeeding my youngest, I find myself holding two feelings at once: relief and heartbreak. đź’ś
Since August 2022, when I became pregnant with my first baby, my body has been devoted to creating, carrying, birthing, and nourishing my girls. And now, almost four years later, that chapter is coming to an end.
Breastfeeding has been one of the most beautiful, yet challenging, parts of motherhood for me.
Between both of my girls, there were cracked and bleeding ni***es, oversupply, thrush, plugged ducts, countless comfort feeds, and with my youngest, a cow’s milk protein allergy that completely changed how I ate.
I eliminated dairy, soy, eggs, and other animal proteins from my diet while trying to continue nourishing her. Eventually, my own energy became depleted enough that I began working with a dietitian to make sure I was nourishing myself, too.
I had always imagined nursing her longer. But sometimes the plans we make before we’re living something look different once we’re actually in it.
Choosing to wean has meant recognizing that my health matters too.
And even though I know I’m ready, there is still grief in knowing I’ll never breastfeed one of my babies again.
I’ll miss the sleepy feeds. The little hand resting on my chest. The way nursing could fix almost anything. The quiet connection that belonged only to us.
But more than anything, I feel proud.
Proud that my body grew and birthed two babies. Proud that I was able to nourish both of my girls. Proud that I kept going through some incredibly difficult seasons—and proud that I can recognize when it’s time to stop.
Motherhood is full of transitions that can be beautiful and sad at the very same time. This is one of them.
So here’s to the end of an era. 💜
Not because breastfeeding stopped being important, but because it did its job. It nourished my babies, comforted them, connected us, and gave me memories I’ll carry long after the last feed.
What a privilege it has been. đź’ś
