Recently someone asked me about breastfeeding my son and were shocked I’d fed him throughout my pregnancy with Ila-Rae, more I think than the fact I am feeding both together. Honestly as much as I wanted to support him, provide comfort and be a safe space, our breastfeeding journey through pregnancy was a rocky one. There were many moments I wanted to stop, but just as many that I was glad of our bond.

I have had a lot of outsider views given, mostly questioning, some judgmental and very few that have been extremely supportive. In the end, a breastfeeding journey is personal, some choose to share and others hide the fact they nurse into toddler years. However, I know I have resonated with others when they share, and so I wanted to do the same, because if even just 1 person feels less alone, or reassured, or takes anything at all that helps, then I think it is worth me being raw, real and honest here.

At the start of my pregnancy I had already been trying to encourage my son to feed less in public. I was tired of the stares and comments. I nursed him on demand at night and was exhausted, so when daytime weaning failed, I began to night wean. This worked, to a degree, with the help of a few night-weaning books and a lot of patience. After the first month of pregnancy however, I began to hate nursing.

I had a nursing aversion also referred to I believe as feeling ‘touched out’ when a child is nursing or asking to. I felt incredibly nauseous every time he fed, and with bad morning sickness anyway, this was something I began to dread. I kept at it, researched how to set boundaries and tried harder to encourage snacks or water or milk bottles instead. Nothing stuck, Theo wanted to keep nursing, and so I grit my teeth and reminded myself that he needed me, that I was a safe space, and that this wasn’t forever.

As pregnancy progressed I began to find it easier again, and I enjoyed him nursing, though he began to choose a bottle over breast because I was all but dried up. He nursed for comfort and I would set a time limit or count down for him to unlatch because if not I would start getting agitated again. He would nurse and play with my belly if we lay down, or sit on my legs and hug my bump as he fed; these moments are ones I am glad I didn’t miss, they made the harder times worth it.

On labour day, Theo was ill so he nursed more than normal; I held him close knowing he’d soon be sharing this precious comfort. Now with Ila-Rae here, he nurses more again because he wants attention and is jealous, but it’s a privilege (though exhausting yes!) because I am able to maintain our bond, and I am building a bond with my daughter, as well as fostering their sibling relationship. He will stroke her face or hair, and though not always gentle, he wants to help her latch. He also tells her to get off and has shoved away a number of times, but it’s a work-in-progress; we’ll get there.

Breastfeeding is something I chose, I am passionate about it, but I am also able to understand it isn’t what everyone wants/can do. I am lucky to be able to feed my kids, to provide their comfort and help regulate their emotions. Even before my pregnancy I knew I’d tandem feed, so maybe its my stubborn streak that meant I kept going. Regardless of how ‘easy’ it looks, or how much I enjoy it and share the good bits, there are also moments I want to give up because I want my body back.

I can’t even imagine why I have chosen this journey, but then I look at my babies and cliche as it may sound, I think that maybe this journey chose me.