Over at Code Name: Mama, Dionna has been running a series called Joys of Breastfeeding Past Infancy, and I have so enjoyed hearing the perspectives of others on their extended breastfeeding/full-term breastfeeding experiences have been like.
Reading through the thoughts in that series brings back fond memories for me of nursing my own girls past infancy. Dacey weaned right at two (when I was newly pregnant with AJ), and AJ weaned at twenty-one months. That remains sorta incredible to me, considering that before I had children, I was completely skeeved out by the thought of nursing a baby who had teeth! I just truly couldn't imagine it. It was hard enough to imagine what nursing a newborn would feel like - but a child? A walking, talking kid? Weird.
So what happened? How did I get from creeped out to nursing long past infancy?
I can only speak for myself, of course, but all I can say is that the girls were still babies to me. Once I got the hang of breastfeeding with Dacey, it felt totally and completely normal to nurse her. That feeling of normal didn't change when she hit twelve months, although as her first birthday approached I began to get fidgety because I was under the impression that I had to wean her when she turned one. Isn't that funny and silly? Who knows where I came up with that.
I would say the thought of weaning her simply because the calendar said she was past the age of nursing seemed far less normal than following my instinct knowing that neither of us were ready for her to wean. And so we kept on - with the blessing of my husband, our pediatrician, the AAP, and the WHO. Not that I needed anyone's blessing to continue, but the extra support was a nice reassurance.
And the same held true with AJ. As she toddled towards two, she still was very much my baby. And it still felt very normal to nurse my baby. I could look at other kids her age and see toddlers, and of course cognitively I knew she was a toddler, but she still seemed like my baby.
I don't know if this even makes any sense. I guess a good analogy could be how I see my husband. We started dating when I was eighteen and he was twenty. Now he is thirty-five. When I was eighteen, I imagine I would have been a little skeeved out by kissing a thirty-five year old man. But now I kiss one every day :) and it of course isn't weird at all. We've grown up together. And I think that's the closest picture I can paint of how I saw my little ones as they continued to nurse past twelve months. We had grown together during that time, so it wasn't weird or uncomfortable or creepy or strange.
In fact, not only was it not weird or uncomfortable or creepy or strange, it actually ended up being a wonderful aspect of parenting a toddler! Nursing my girls past infancy allowed me to have an instant soother on hand for their upsets, a means for reconnection in the midst of activity-filled days, and the peace of mind knowing each of my girls were receiving the wonderful nutrition in breastmilk - especially as they weathered picky-eater days.
In the picture above, Dacey was newly two - the age she weaned. Do you see a baby or a child? I bet you see a little kid, but to this day, pictures like that elicit an "oh, my Dacey Baby!" response from me.
For others who have breastfed past infancy, do you have any insights to share about what it's like? For those who have wondered, does this help at all or does it all still perplexing? I look forward to hearing your thoughts!
