Northern Beaches Mums Group
Northern Beaches Mums Group

The Final Feed: Letting go isn’t always easy, even when you are ready

In October 2024, I weaned my daughter after two years and two months of breastfeeding. I never thought we’d go that long, but we did. And just like that, it came to an end. No big moment, no tears, just a quiet, natural transition… though definitely an emotional one.

This wasn’t my first time breastfeeding. I breastfed my son in 2018 for a year, and I remember how attached he was. It wasn’t easy to stop with him either because breastfeeding was his comfort, his safe space, just like it was for my daughter.

With both, breastfeeding wasn’t just about nourishment. It was how they fell asleep, how they regulated their emotions, how they felt secure. And to be honest, it worked both ways. It calmed me too. It was the one time in a chaotic day when we were still, together. Letting go of that kind of connection is hard, even when you know it’s time.

I didn’t have a strict plan for when to stop. I always had an internal sense that I’d wean naturally, when they were ready. My daughter showed no signs of slowing down. In fact, I’d tried to cut back a few times, but she wasn’t having it. It just didn’t feel right to force it.

Then I went away for a weekend retreat, my first real break since she was born. I wasn’t expecting anything major, just a reset for myself. But when I came back… she didn’t ask to breastfeed. It threw me, honestly. I thought it was a fluke, but the next day, still nothing. It was like the space gave her the push she needed, and just like that, our feeding journey came to a quiet end.

What I wasn’t prepared for was how my body would respond while I was away. My breasts became full and painfully engorged within the first day, and I had to manually express some milk to ease the pressure. It wasn’t ideal, but it helped me get through the discomfort. I also had painkillers on hand in case it got worse, and I did have to resort to them while flying back. Thankfully, the body is wise. It soon starts to realise there’s no baby nursing, and milk production naturally begins to slow down after a couple of days.

It was bittersweet. Part of me felt relieved, like I had regained some part of my body and time. But another part of me felt sad. As demanding as it can be, breastfeeding had been such a huge part of my motherhood journey, over three years across both kids, and it made me feel like I was fulfilling an important role.

The emotions are complicated. There’s pride, sadness, nostalgia, even guilt. You wonder if you should have done it differently, or held on longer, or let go sooner. But ultimately, it was right for both of us. My daughter is now more independent, expressive, and confident, and I truly believe the nourishment and comfort she received through breastfeeding played a big part in that foundation.

What I’ve learned is that weaning can be emotional, no matter how long you breastfeed, especially when it’s been your child’s comfort and your shared rhythm. It’s not just them letting go; it’s you too.

There’s no perfect timing or method. Every mum and child is different, and that’s okay. Both of my journeys were unique and special. While this marks the end of one chapter, it’s also the start of a new kind of closeness. And I’m proud of how far we’ve come.


About Author

Anu Verma is a trauma recovery coach, podcast host, and author of Victim 2 Victor. As the founder of the Victim 2 Victor movement, she empowers survivors of abuse to heal, reclaim their voice, and live without shame. Through her podcast, book, and upcoming films, Anu is transforming pain into purpose.

Learn more at https://victim2victor.net