Author's Note
Hey guys!
I wasn't expecting this story to happen at all. I especially wasn't expecting it to be such a passionate rebuttal against those who knock extended breastfeeding, or to go so deep into the why's of why mothers would choose to do so in the first place, but it really went there. Twilight Velvet came into my head today and rattled off most of what you'll read below. I just took it down for her. It was a very interesting conversation, to say the least.
Extended breastfeeding is a bit of a passion project of mine. I hope that when I have my own biological kids someday that I'll be able to nurse them until they're done. The story itself came out of the blue, but the passion that went into it was already there, because I firmly believe that no mother should be shamed for how she chooses to nourish her child. Whether it's through breastfeeding, bottle feeding, or cup feeding, your journey with your baby is yours alone, and nobody can shame you for the decisions you make for that baby because they aren't you.
I have no idea if there are any breastfeeding Mamas reading this right now, but if you are and you're struggling with your self confidence, I hope you can take comfort in the fact that you're definitely not alone, and that you nourishing your child is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. You are a brave, beautiful, strong Mama warrior who is keeping her baby healthy, and you should be proud of that instead of feeling ashamed. Your journey with your baby is your own, and you do what's best for the both of you. You are loved.
To the rest of you guys who are reading this, whether male, female, father, mother, or not, I hope that this story answers some questions you guys might have about extended breastfeeding. I wanted to include a link to the fact sheet that helped inspire this story as well in hopes that maybe this story will get you curious and you'll want to check it out, or maybe even be able to help defend another mom who decided to do extended breastfeeding. Let's smash the stigma together.
Love you guys. Enjoy!
The Reason
I hear it all of the time.
“When will you stop nursing him?”
“If he’s old enough to ask for it, he shouldn’t be having it.”
“Nursing beyond a year is too long.”
“He’s HOW old and he still nurses from you?”
Sometimes they say it out loud, and sometimes they say it with lingering stares and disapproving gazes. Other times they say it by trying to ask me to move into the bathroom or cover myself with a wrap even though it’s the middle of summer and it’s MY house. They want to make me feel ashamed for my choice, but they can’t make me feel anything if I don’t allow them to.
My son, Shining Armor, has just turned three. I still nurse him daily. Those ponies who make those comments to him do not know our story. They do not know that he was born almost three months prematurely, and could have died in the hospital. They don't know that I did not get to nurse him for the first time until well after he came home from the hospital. They're completely unaware that I had to pump my milk and put it into an orogastric tube so that he could feed and get stronger and healthier. They do not know that without my milk, he would not be alive right now.
I feel very fortunate that my son gets so involved with nursing that he doesn’t pay any mind to the comments we get sometimes. I never want him to feel ashamed about something that makes him feel comforted and has helped him overcome so much. He’s still smart, confident, and independent. My nursing him doesn’t take any of that away from him- that’s just how other ponies perceive it. Instead, I’m facilitating that. We’re done nursing when he says so. He gets to make that decision and give that up when he’s ready. Meeting his emotional needs will help him to be more independent.
I grew up in Fillydelphia for the first six years of my life before I moved to Canterlot with my own parents. I don’t necessarily remember much of it, but what I do remember without a doubt is that everypony had very strong opinions. You had to develop a thick skin pretty quickly in order to not let it get to you. When my mother announced we were moving to Canterlot for her work, I carried that lesson with me there. I was very fortunate to have parents who encouraged me to be myself and supported me in everything I did. It made me a confident decision maker.
The fact that I am as confident in this decision as I am with all of the judgmental comments I have received has been a testament to how well my parents raised me, and how I hope I can raise my son. From the day he was born, it was my job to be his voice when he couldn’t communicate, or to answer the questions he asks me. When other ponies try and comment on our decision to continue nursing, I speak on his behalf and ask them why it should even be considered an issue if it comforts him. Nopony would bat an eye if he had a blanket or stuffed animal he needed for comfort, so why is this any different?
From an outsider’s perspective, I can understand how it might look bizarre. A toddler still nursing from his mother seems outlandish when the societal norm is to breastfeed until the year mark. But as somepony looking from the inside, I can tell you that it feels no different than the day I first got to nurse him. I didn’t get the chance to nurse my son the day he was born like most other moms. I didn’t even get to hold him or touch him for the first two weeks of his life. I didn’t get to have that moment of connection when I held him the day he was born, or that feeling of joy when I got to nurse him from that very first day. I had to wait, give him my milk through a tube that went into his stomach through his mouth, and spend my time being afraid. My milk was all that was keeping him alive, but I never knew if it would be enough. If my husband came home sick from work, if a friend with an autoimmune deficiency came over carrying some cold, it could have been life-threatening for my son. My milk boosted his immunity, and kept him strong. From the newborn stage when my milk was sustaining his life, to three months old when I was finally able to nurse him myself, to six months old when he nursed and began eating solid foods, to the year mark when everypony said it was time to stop, I can tell you that it just feels like another milestone in our nursing journey, and feels just as natural as it ever has for either of us.
The old “if they ask for it then they’re too old” argument exhausts me. Children ask for nourishment from the day they’re born. My son is still eating regular foods, getting all the nutrition he needs from that, and getting the vitamins and nutrients he needs from my milk. Just because my son doesn’t cry when he’s hungry anymore or that he doesn’t survive on just my milk doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it or need it. After the first year of nursing is when you reap the full benefits of it. My milk gives him vitamins, calcium, and reduces his risk of illness as well as my own. Knowing that I will be there to nurse him and meet his needs has helped facilitate his independence, and has helped him feel more comfortable playing with other colts.
Much of the time I’ve been nursing him, I’ve felt very alone. My husband has been working increasingly late hours to put food on the table and pay the bills. There aren’t many young families in Canterlot, so that has limited the mothers I can talk to who are going through what I am, and they have all said in one way or another that they thought what I was doing wasn’t the cultural norm and was, frankly, odd. Looking from the outside I suppose that's understandable, but in a way it's incredibly painful. The mares who are supposed to be able to understand what you're going through disproving of your decisions can be a devastating blow, and make you feel very isolated from everypony.
There have been many times when I have wanted to give up, just so that the comments would end. Having a constant stream of ponies trying to tell you how to raise and nourish your child is exhausting. There have been days when I have gone to bed crying because the comments of others that were playing on and on in my head were just too much to take. There have been more days than that where I just wanted to rip my ears off so I wouldn’t have to hear their criticism anymore.
Everypony has an opinion, and everypony wants to share it. But nopony seems to have the good sense to realize when they’ve crossed a line. How I raise my child is between me, my husband, and my son. Nopony else. Everypony seems to think if they start a sentence with “Well, this is what worked for my family…” That it’s automatically okay to say whatever comes after. But it’s not. Because my family is not your family. What worked for you might not work for us. The constant stream of advice just makes me question myself to the point where I fear I’m hurting my son just by what I let him play with. Celestia forbid I let him play with a doll because obviously it means he’ll be too girly, when really he might grow up to be a fantastic father one day because I let him play with it. I’m so tired of everypony else thinking they know what’s best for my family when they aren’t a part of it.
The question then follows, of course, as to why I would continue nursing my son if I want all of the criticism to stop. It’s been three years, so obviously he’s gotten the nutrients he needs, so what gives?
It’s simple.
Because when those comments are getting into my head and bringing me down, sometimes my son will come up to me, softly nudge me, and ask if he can have “milkies”. I’ll turn over, and he’ll latch onto me, and I’ll remember something. I remember all the scrapes and bruises my milk has soothed him from. I look into his little face and I am reminded that he’s just learning how big the world really is, and think about how comforting this must be to him to know that he can still return to the safety of my arms and be fed. I look into his sweet face and feel an overwhelming sense of peace. It has always been an absolute joy to nurse my son. I know that no matter what anypony else says, his feelings are the only ones that matter. This is our journey, and no one else’s. It will end when he’s ready. Until then, I intend to savor every minute of it.
Sometimes I feel very alone in my decision to continue nursing my son, but then I look down into his face and smile, because I’m reminded that I’m not.
